The Art of Being Insane
by Sacagawea
Summary: Teasing, Taunting and just plain Tormenting her always made me feel like I was still in control. It made me feel like it was still my game, as if I wasn't afraid that in the end I would lose. But I was. DHr, Draco's POV...Written PreHBP
1. The Beginning of the End

A/N: Hi! This fic is just something new I felt like starting, because this idea has been eating away at me for ages. It's going to be from Draco's POV, which will be a challenge, since I am a girly-girl through and through. I just really hope I do an okay job with this, since it'll be sort of on the side, because Be a Doll will stay my main focus. I'll work on this more than I work on When HP Woke Up though (if you guys like it, that is).

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does, all of it. If I did, quite a few things would be different.

Now here's Chappie 1 of

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 1:The Beginning of the End (of my sanity, that is)**

Teasing, Taunting and just plain Tormenting her always made me feel like I was still in control. It made me feel like it was still my game, as if I wasn't afraid that in the end that I would lose. But I was. I couldn't hide this strange, unusual, really quite ridiculous fear from myself. That would be too hard, even for me. And I could do almost anything.

I'm not just bragging when I say that either. Despite what others may think, I did not get into Hogwarts because I had money. I have skills, I really do. My family saves our money for things we need anyway, even though we had plenty of it. Whether or not you choose to believe this is entirely up to you, but I'll just say this now: I give you my word as a Malfoy that this is true.

When I got the letter saying I would be Head Boy, two thoughts immediately came to mind. One of them was _'My own room!'_, and the other was _'But who is Head Girl?'_. It's the obvious question, and of course it had an obvious answer. Because there's only one girl in my year who it could be, and her name was Hermione Granger.

This of course, sent me off on one of my rants, and I went stomping through the house yelling this like, "This is an outrage!" and "Mudbloods shouldn't even be allowed at the school!". My mother's reaction to this was "M-hmm." And "Yes, Draco.". I wasn't surprised, and rather glad of it anyway. She never really paid attention to me, or anything else for that matter. But if she had chosen to acknowledge me that day, she would have seen that the look on my face clearly spelled out fear.

Why, you ask? Why would you be afraid? Well I'll tell you why, eventually anyway. But back to my story.

I was mad and scared for a many reasons. Here are just some of the select few:

1. I would have to share a common room with that insufferable know-it-all.

2. I would have to patrol the halls with that huffy excuse for a girl.

3. That annoying suck-up would just blah-blah-blah me to death over the importance of my position as Head Boy and how I should take charge...(I'm not going to bore you all with the entire speech).

The list goes on and on, the insults getting lamer and lamer as I went along. There was only one thing that kept me from doing the 'Avada Kedavra' spell at myself in the mirror. And that thing was that I would be able to do all the Teasing, Taunting and Tormenting that my heart desired, thus making me feel in charge through this entire year. That was the best part. Because after that year, I never have to see her stupid, ugly face again. I WOULD WIN! Never again would I have to force myself to walk away from places just because of her. Never again would I have to worry about her getting the better of me when we fought.

I'd be free. Free, free, free, free, free. Ha, ha, ha, ha, HA! IN YOUR FACE MUDBLOOD! The thought of that made me want to whoop and dance around in all my happiness. Yet sadly, I had a reputation to worry about. So I settled for a long,crazy, do-very-dangerous-loop-de-loops, joy ride on my Nimbus 2001 instead, which I suppose was better than nothing.

Besides the fact that I almost fell off a couple of times, there was only one bad thing about the ride: I had plenty of time to think. One thing you do not want Draco Malfoy to do is have too much time to think. I am known to have second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth thoughts. Actually that night I got all the way to 14th thoughts, if I counted correctly.

'_What if it happens?'_ my mind said. _'What if by having to live with her, it happens? Then you won't win, because she'd never think the same of you.'_

I told myself that I was being ridiculous. It wouldn't happen. I wouldn't allow it. And I would win anyway. I had already decided this. But of course, I had to be me. I had to doubt myself the tiniest bit. The doubt just seemed to grow and grow, overwhelming me. I found myself not even being able to sleep without the thought crossing my mind.

One day, about a week before I was due on the train, I was sitting in the living room, reading some book that I had absolutely no interest in. Luckily, Mother had left earlier that day to a lunch banquet, so I was alone. There were only a few house-elves here and there, cleaning random pieces of furniture.

Suddenly, I felt my mouth beginning to form the words. Out loud. I smacked my hand over my entire face, dashing up the stairs into my bedroom, ignoring the strange looks from the elves. I knew it was no use trying to stop myself, as I had already started to say it. I've never said it before. Not in my mind and definitely not out loud.

I just barely made it, muffling my face into my pillows before the words burst out.

"I am afraid of Hermione Granger."

A/N: It might not be wise to leave you guys with a cliffy on a story I don't even know that people will like, but I'll take a shot at it. It's not as dramatic as it seems, the funniness will be coming soon, okey-dokey? Even if I don't get many reviews, I'll update this soon, cause I'm having fun writing it. So please, tell me what you think!

Sacagawea


	2. My Unwanted Fear

A/N: Wow, I guess you guys liked the idea, I really didn't expect reviews! So, in my utter gratitude, here are all my reviewers: **frifri, labeledrose, iluvwriting, NitenGale, Exploded toilet bowl, frifri (she reviewed twice, so she gets to be on here twice), white-angel-snowflake, LadyofRavindor, Ptrst, swettytweety013, grylfriend, Kadoatie24, RissaMalfoy, and lilpsycho14!**

Okay, in this chapter, you figure out exactly what Draco means by he's afraid of Hermione. It may not be what you expected, and possibly clichéd, but again I've decided to just take a shot at it.

So here's Chapter 2 of

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 2: My Unwanted Fear (and my hidden peppermint stash)**

"I am afraid of Hermione Granger."

Finally admitting it to myself made it sound even stupider. I was afraid not only of a girl, but a Mudblood. I feared a stupid, sissy, oh-so-prissy Mudblood. Not to mention she was a Gryfinndor, friends with Potter and Weasley, and a goody-two-shoes.

Then again, if she wasn't a girl, would this even be possible?

I lifted my face from the pillow, letting in a couple of needed gulps of air. '_Maybe I should go back downstairs. You know, calm myself by playing a couple games of Throw the House Elf._' I thought, glancing at the door. After a moment, I decide against it. What I wantedat the moment wasto be alone. I was a complete disgrace.

Sighing, I burrowed under my covers, like I did when I was a little kid. And not afraid of Granger. It was annoyingly hot, but I tried to ignore the heat by breathing in the coolness of the sheets. I kicked the wobbly head board with my feet, making a satisfying banging sound, even though I knew it would probably leave a mark on the wall. That was one thing my mother _would_ notice. She was almost fanatic when it came to keeping 'her' house looking good.

But I'm sure you'd rather listen to an explanation of my fear than listen to a long, boring description of what I was doing while sitting in my bedroom on that fateful day, now wouldn't you? I thought so.

So perhaps I should start at the very beginning, when I first saw exactly how powerful she was.

I was in Diagon Alley in the year 1991, right after getting my school robes, when all of the sudden I spotted a mass of brown frizz stuck to a girl's head. It took me a second to realize it was her hair. She was in Muggle clothing, and had two adults (who I suppose were her parents) standing next to her looking very confused. Then, something dropped from her hands, and landed on the ground, shattering into a million pieces. I merely smirked; stupid Mudbloods, and their ignorance.

But to my greatest surprise, she pulled a wand out of a box (had she just gotten her wand?) and pointed it at the ground. "Reparo." She said crisply, pronouncing the spell very precisely.

Just like that, it was fixed. That had to be the first spell she had ever done, and it had worked perfectly. No wand backfiring, no trouble, no strange side effects. It was just fixed. Looking very pleased with herself she picked the newly fixed item and showed it to her mother. "See? It's fine Mum. I told you I could do it."

Right at that moment Father started dragging me off, asking me what I was looking at that was so interesting, I still had things to buy...blah-blah-blah, it's not like I actually ever listen to him. I did hear one more thing before we were out of earshot. In response to her daughter's spell, the mother said. "That's very good Hermione. I just know you'll do well at Hogwarts."

And that was what made her permanently etched into my mind. I knew that whether or not I wanted to I was going to look for her at school. That's just the way I work. But then came that day on the train, I walked into her car and saw how annoying and bossy she was. It was like she never shut up. She just kept going on and on and on, and about absolutely nothing too. I never wanted to hear her speak again. Unfortunately I had to. Not only that, but I would keep having to for the next six years.

So that covered the first two reasons why I was scared of her:I wasafraid that one day she wasgoing to talk me to death, and she's also one the best witches the world had ever seen. Actually, I'm pretty sure anyone who's ever met her is scared of her in that sense. The other reason I was afraid of her is the weird one.

This is where it gets complicated.

I then rolled off my bed onto the floor, despite the fact that the elves haven't cleaned in here for more than a week, so it's filthy. I didn't want to admit my fear. I wanted to pretend that it wasn't true. I always was stubborn, even to myself. Perhaps that's why I did such a good job of hiding it all these years.

When I say 'it' in this very last sentence I meant my peppermint stash. Peppermints are the only candy worth eating, besides chocolate anyway. But chocolate-covered peppermints are disgusting, so I stick with either one or the other. Dragging myself over to the closet, I lifted up a stack of old quilts to reveal a thin green box. Sitting on my musty old covers, I opened it and started popping mints into my mouth, three or four at a time.

Now to figure out the complications. I will build on it, but here it is very simply so you get the idea: I'm afraid of falling in love with her.

I didn't even know why. She wasn't very pretty and she definitely was not very nice to me either. Also, she's a Mudblood Gryffindor, bossy and hates me. How much more un-perfect for me could a person get? Yet therewas something about her that maked me feel like it would be _possible_ for me to like her. I won't lie to myself: I was very picky when it comes to just about everything, but especially people. I wouldn't settle for just anything in a girl. So I figured that since I would feel endangered of falling in love with her, theremust have beensomething special about Hermione Granger. I just knew there was.

What I didn't want to do is to find it.

Because then I would be powerless against her. If I knew what that special thing about her was then I'd know that, being the insane me I am, I would _definitely_ like her. That her being so PERFECT wouldn't annoy me, that I would simply smile at it, amused. That her bossiness would just be 'cute'. That her overly large head would fascinate me, instead of making me want to puke.

That I'd accept her.

Only to be rejected.

'_And that, my precious peppermints'_ I thought, staring down at the half-empty box, _'Is the scariest thing of all.'_

A/N: Okay, so that was more serious than I thought it would be, but please bear with me people. In the next chapter he will go back to school and the Teasing, Taunting and Tormenting will begin! Hazzah! Trust me, the next part will be funny, cause I got a few ideas...

Bye-bye,

Sacagawea


	3. The Train Ride

A/N: Hulluuuuuuuuu, everyone! Yeah, I know this update is really soon, but I kinda have writer's block on When HP Woke Up, and I think I should torture you all a little bit longer on Be a Doll (I know I'm evil). This is only part one of the train ride. I just realized that it just take at leasttwelve hours to get to Hogwarts, so I can fit a whole lot of Teasing, Taunting and Torturing in.

Here are the names of my x-cell-ent reviewers: **Ptrst, lilpsycho14, frifri, Exploded toilet bowl, RissaMalfoy, NitenGale, kay345, NotreDamegirlie, ilovetom88, and LadyofRavindor**! Hazzah! (BTW, if I forgot anybody, I am very sorry cause I have to do this from my email box and some got deleted or something.)

One more thing: I don't own Charlie Brown (you'll see...).

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 3: The Train Ride – ("The Cookie of Doom")**

Every one in a while, I found myself wishing I was normal. I didn't't mean that I wanted an average _life_, without my servants and all. I wouldn't give up my riches for anything in the world. What I wanted was for me, myself, to be normal. There's something very wrong with me: nothing entertains me. Even as a kid, I could be watching the most amazing show and hardly blink. People often took this for being snobby. My parents took it for being ungrateful. I didn't takeit at all. I just knew that I got bored.

That's another reason why I enjoyed Teasing, Taunting, and Tormenting her so much. She was just so hilarious when she got mad, how could you not be entertained? I'm not saying it wasn't a risk to get her mad, because it was. I knew that if I ever were to push her far enough that she could and would hex me into oblivion. So I was careful, but not to the point of being nice. I would never let my 'Object of Amusement' (as I secretly called her) get the better of me. At least I tried not to.

If I had been a normal human being then I probably wouldn't have been waiting for the arrival of my enemies. But since I'm not...

I stood the platform for what seemed like hours, literally jumping at the sight of any short brunettes, tall freaks with red hair, or any one who strut around with a very fake-looking scar on their stupid forehead. Every time there was a false alarm (which was _every_ time) I would start verbally abusing anyone who came my way, sending most people away in tears. But I couldn't help it; I was mad. If those three didn't show up, what the hell was I supposed to do all year?

See what I meant? I had nothing better to do but bug people all the time. It's almost to the point of being pathetic.

Except Malfoy's are never pathetic.

This year was what was pathetic, not me. First I found out that Granger is Head Girl, now this-

'_Wait a minute.'_ I said to myself. _'If Granger's Head Girl, then in all her excitement she probably ran onto the train as soon as she got here on as soon as she got here.' _I glanced at the clock, and saw it was almost time for the train to leave. _'Which was was probably a while ago.'_

Grinning, I stuck a peppermint in my mouth as I boarded the train. Things were looking up. Now I was off to the Head Car, where I belonged. But I supposed one quick stop at the snack trolley wouldn't hurt...

123123123123123123123123123123

I made my way to the front of the train, eating a gigantic chocolate chip cookie. I hadn't wanted one so big and well, _stupid_ looking, but the lady had refused to sell me just a piece out of the middle. So finally I just bought the whole thing. It's amazing what idiotic requests people can come up with. I mean really, she's still making a sale, so it shouldn't have mattered.

It then occurred to me that I should be there by now. I knew for a fact that the car was somewhere around there-

Suddenly two small arms shot out and grabbed me around the waist, yanking me into the nearest room. I didn't know what hit me. One second I was standing there wondering where the room was, the next I was on the ground and someone was sitting on my stomach. For a moment I left my eyes shut, not sure if I wanted to open them. And when that Someone-Sitting-On-My-Stomach spoke, I _knew_ I didn't want to open them.

"Malfoy, where have you BEEN? You were supposed to come to the Head Car as soon as you got here. I had to lead the Prefect's meeting all by myself! Do you not _care_ about you duties?" squealed her shrill voice annoyingly.

Her blah-ing reminded me of the adults in that one Muggle cartoon about the loser with the yellow shirt that had the black zigzag on it (The only reason I know about this is because ever since The War started we've all had to take Muggle Studies). She then began to repeatedly poke me in the chest with her wand. "Draco Malfoy, you better get up and explain yourself _right now_ or you will not live to regret it. I will tear you limb from-"

I opened my eyes and looked up into the face of a Hermione Granger that was seething with anger. Her eyes were shooting daggers at me, and they clearly read 'don't you even try it'. Typical Granger.

I swatted away her wand, which was still poking and attempted to get up. At this, she pointed it directly at my heart. "Oh no you don't!" she yelled, poison in her tone. "You answer me now, or I'll..." she noddedat her wand, which hadn't moved an inch. "Now talk." She demanded, looking very proud of herself for getting this far.

I rolled my eyes. Will she ever, ever, ever learn? I pushed the stupid girl off me, and leaned against the wall, giving her the most innocent smile I could muster. She looked like she wasabout to explode. Finally, she managed to spit out without bursting, "Why are you giving me that goofy smirk? You look like an idiot."

How dare she insult my smirk! "My smirk is not 'goofy'! You just don't know a good smirk when you see it." I sniffed, turning away from her. Neither of us had gotten off the ground yet.

"Oh yeah?" she hissed back. "What's your family motto? _'When in doubt, smirk'_?"

'_How did _she_ know that?'_ I asked myself, my face falling for a moment. Quickly regaining my composure, I responded. "No. Actually it's _'Slay all Mudbloods'_." There. Never let 'em see you sweat. You will not win, Hermione Granger, no matter how smart you think you are.

"I can't believe you!" she screamed in my face, in hysterics. "All I wanted was an explanation of why you didn't show up earlier and you turn it into another argument about our families!"

"What?" I yelled back. "This is your fault. You're the one who brought up my family!" And it wastrue too, so she couldn't say anything.

Her constantly blabbing mouth snapped shut for once. "Whatever." She mumbled, getting up and dusting her skirt off. "Whatever. I don't care." She turned towards her bag and that's when I spot it: my cookie, lying on the ground, half crumbled from when she tackled me.

"You made me drop my cookie." I said, pointing to my snack.

She turned back to me, her eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

I scooted across the floor on my knees. "You heard me. You made me drop my cookie. I was eating that you know." Why I was even talking about this, I didn't know, but insane people will do insane things. I didn't make the rules, I just had to follow them. But then I had an idea.

Granger gave me the most puzzled expression I've even seen in my life. "Okay, we were just about to kill each other and now all you care about is that you dropped your cookie? Am I missing something here?"

"Yes. You forgot to say that it's your fault I dropped it. And I spent almost a sickle on it."

That just got her mad again. "Like you can't afford it." She scoffed, going back to digging around in her bag. I didn't think she noticed that I picked it up off the floor and began to examine it, but apparently she did. Perfect. "What are you doing?" she said, narrowing her eyes like I was planning something. What she didn't know was that I was.

"Do you think I could still eat this?" I asked her, holding it up to the light. She stareed at it for a moment and then back at me.

"Wha-What? Why would you eat it?"

"Well, it's only been on the ground for a couple of minutes. And I'm hungry."

"Malfoy, you are NOT going to eat that cookie! You'll get sick. Just buy a new one, and leave me alone!" I could tell she was irritated by now, but I hoped she would watch for just a little bit longer...

"Get that thing away from your mouth!" she shrieked, trying to grab it. Granger didn't know it, but inside I was laughing myself to tears. She was playing right into my hands.

"Why? I already told you, I'm hungry. What could it hurt anyway?" I said, giving her a sideways glance. Finally, I stood up and stuck it right into her face, almost touching her nose. "It's just a harmless little cookie. I won't-"

"Well what if you get sick and die? You have no idea if the floor is clean or not." Granger stated practically, glaring up at me. "Then everyone will think _I_ killed you, because I'm the only one here."

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Why would they suspect you?"

"Like I said, I'm the only one here, and would anyone else believe that you died because you ate a chocolate chip cookie that fell on the floor?"

I just shrugged and brought it closer to my mouth, dancing out of her reach. "Either way it's your fault. You made me drop it. Anyway, I hear Azkaban is quite cozy." I opened my mouth wide, looking ready to bite down (although I would never do that – I may be crazy, but I'm not _that_ crazy)...

Her wand was out and ready. _"Tersus!"_ she screamed, her aim perfect. A bluish ray came out of the end of her wand, zapping it directly in the center. I just stared at her, open mouthed (of course, I didn't help that I was like that already).

Granger pouted and stuffed her wand back into her robe pocket. "If I couldn't stop you from eating it I could at least clean it." She looked at me expectantly, as if to say, "Go ahead, it's fine _now_."

So I had no choice but to eat it. I slowly chewed it, the entire thing tasting bland as I stared at her in hatred. She just had to ruin my fun, didn't she? She just had to mess everything up. Well, I'll tell you one thing Hermione Granger: this is not over yet.

Of course, when I said 'this' in the last sentence, I meant the train ride. It takes quite a while to get to Hogwarts you know. There was no way I was leaving this train until her anger satisfied me.

And it took a lot to satisfy a Malfoy.

A/N: Yeah, I just re-read it, and it's kinda weird...oh well! What else do you expect a life-less fan girl like me to do on a Friday night? Wish I could say I have to go and do something really cool and worthy of being envied, but I don't. So please review, cause I am just as bored as Draco.


	4. The Feast

**A/N:** Hello everyone! I know I haven't updated this story in about 9 months, but I do still wish to continue it. Even though I've noticed that people aren't that into this story, I wanted to update before the release of HBP, just so I could establish some things before possible characters deaths. Anywho, here are the names of the people who bothered to review this rather odd side-fic:

**redenvy, frifri (x2), xXxsweet-dreamerxXx, NitenGale, ilovetom88, RissaMalfoy, Mjshunpike, D/HR SHIPPER and iluvsnuffles!**

One last thing. This is not the chapter 4 I had intended to write. Originally I had come up with a 2nd episode between Draco and Hermione on the train, but it just didn't fit with the story. So this skips right to the Welcoming Feast that they get when they arrive at Hogwarts. But don't worry – you will eventually find out what happened on the other part of the train ride!

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 4: The Feast (and the Enchanted, Talking Crabbe)**

Dumbledore stood up. "Welcome back to Hogwarts everyone! I've decided that that's all I'm going to say this year. For this you can thank Mr. Draco Malfoy, the handsome Slytherin boy sitting right there!" The headmaster pointed his wand at me and a magical spotlight appeared. "Since he's been locked up with a Mudblood for the past 10 hours we've decided to just let all of you eat! Enjoy!"

The hall erupted into cheers as food piled onto our plates. My own housemates began showering me with peppermints while chanting _"Dra-co, Dra-co!"._ Meanwhile, all the Gryffindors dropped dead, but no one noticed, nor cared. I grinned. Today was turning out to be all right after all.

Someone prodded me in the back. I turned, expecting it to be another admirer wanting to tell me how wonderful I was. But when I saw who it was, the smile was wiped right from my face, and replaced with a look of sheer terror.

Before me stood a snarling, angered, very-much-alive Hermione Granger, her hands on her hips and armed with her most deadly weapon: her wand. "You…" she said in a low hiss, again prodding me with her wand. "You will never be happy again."

"Why not?" I managed to squeak through my fear, "And why aren't you dead?"

"I'm not dead because I'm you're worst fear, you imbecile." She spat, looking rather annoyed with me, "And you're never going to be happy again because I'm going to take care of you _once__and for all_. HOUSE ELVES ATTACK!"

Suddenly a million house elves were running at me screaming _"SPEW, SPEW, SPEW!". _They hit me over the head with cleaning supplies and stole all of my peppermints, stuffing them inside their tea towels. I tried to fight, but it was no use; there were too many, I was outnumbered. I began to slip away, the darkness swirling around me –

"Draco!" I heard a voice say.

I awoke with a start, jumping in my seat. The rest of the hall was gazing up at the high table as the old man who called himself our Headmaster chattered on. "Draco," said Goyle, prodding me in the side, "What happened?"

I sighed, setting my head down on the table next to my plate. My empty, empty, empty plate. "Nothing, Goyle. I just fell asleep, that's all. I can never pay attention to these dumb speeches."

He gasped stupidly. "But Draco, you said that we always have to pay attention!"

"That's just you Goyle. I don't have to."

"And what makes you think that you're so special Mr. Malfoy?" said a sharp voice from behind me.

I craned my neck upwards to see Professor McGonagal giving me a stern glance. "Well?" she pressed, now tapping her foot impatiently, "I'm waiting to hear your explanation. I'd expect better behavior from our Head Boy."

Teachers. Gotta hate 'em. I quickly drawled in response, "Oh, I'm quite sorry Professor. I was just telling my friend Greg here about the importance of always paying attention to boring Headmasters – oh, and constant vigilance." I added, just to throw her off.

A funny look came over her. "Oh, um…" She appeared to be at a loss for words. "Well, I guess I can let the two of you off this time, but don't expect it in the future." Unfortunately for her, there was almost no snap to her words. McGonagal hastily strode away, waving a hand at Dumbledore. "Please continue, Headmaster."

"Thank you Minerva." He responded. "Now where was I? Oh yes. Then, a vampire couple walks into the bar…"

I might have narrowly escaped trouble, but I was still bored. Instead of listening to the ramblings of Dumbledore, I chose to let my eyes wander about the rest of the hall. As usual, the Hufflepuffs were sitting very properly in their seats, looking, or at least pretending to look interested. The Ravenclaws looked pretty much the same as the Hufflepuffs, expect I could plainly see a couple of fifth years making out under the table. _'Hmm,'_ I said to myself, _'And McGonagal got mad at me for _talking_.'_

An idea crossed my mind, but it was a slightly dangerous one. Who knew what I might spot, or, on another note, who knew who might spot me spotting _them_?

But seeing as that explanation of why not to do it made absolutely no sense, I went and did it anyway. What did I do, you ask? Call me an idiot, call me insane, but at that moment, I decided to go check up on Granger.

She was sitting silently at the Gryffindor table, Potty and Weasel sitting on either side of her like bodyguards. _'Ugh. Some people.'_ I thought. Granger was leaning forward in near excitement, her eyes shining like diamonds under a bush of her own brown hair. Then I noticed something odd – she was smiling. Well, grinning like a nut to be more accurate. I knew she enjoyed listening to the extremely boring, but even she didn't enjoy it _that_ much. Had Dumbledore said something amusing that I had missed? I spared a glance at her buffoons, but they looked just as clueless as I was.

_What had suddenly made her so happy?_

Then it hit me like a Bludger to the face: it was **_me_**. It was my mouth. It was my mouth that had made her so happy. And for those of you that permanently have you minds in the gutter, I mean something I _said_ made her happy, some words that I had so stupidly let out of my mouth (Merlin, what did you think, you sickos?). I hoped that she would've forgotten about it by then, but apparently not…it wasn't my fault anyway…just a slip of the tongue, didn't mean a thing. I mean, come ON, any idiot could tell that I didn't actually think that…

Suddenly, I had a creeping sensation worm it's way up my spine. Someone was watching me and coincidently it was the same person I had been watching. It was a rather odd feeling really; I could actually _feel _Granger's big brown eyes on me. Scary. I glanced back, acknowledging her with a curt nod. _"What?" _I mouthed.

She simply stared at me for a moment, as if in shock. The look on her face was somewhere in between bewilderment and amusement. _"WHAT?"_ I mouthed again, this time more forcefully. I didn't have all day, I had much more important things to do that wait for a Mudblood to answer me.

This time, she began tapping the tabletop repeatedly with one finger, all the while mouthing something very quickly at me. I shrugged, not seeing what she was getting at. Granger's profile became anxious. She was now slapping the wood with one hand and gripping her arm with the other, still silently attempting to communicate with me. Okay, this was getting stupid. _"What about the table?"_ I mouthed. Granger looked furious now and smacked both hands down on the House table, on either side of her plate, which was filled with food –

OH. Oh. I swore to myself under my breath. Why me, why always me…

I dared to peek at my own plate, which I distinctly remembered setting my arm across while waiting for the food to appear. The sight wasn't pretty. My entire right arm, robe and all, almost up to my shoulder, was completely covered in a mountain of lemon custard. My eyes whipped back up to Granger. _"NOW WHAT?"_ I silently shouted at her.

She shrugged. _"Sorry."_ And with that, she went to her own food, a sort of sad look lingering about her.

I felt like strangling her. The idiot Mudblood, I didn't want her sympathy, I wanted her knowledge of cleaning spells! I was a guy, I had never bothered learn those sorts of things! Silently fuming, I grabbed a few napkins from the table and began the slow process of scraping all the thick yellow mixture off my robe.

From my right came a loud gasp, followed by two large porky hands reaching for me. "Hey Draco, LOOK – custard!" yelled Crabbe, again making wild attempts to snatch my arm out of the air.

"Crabbe, you dolt, that's not custard, those are my silk robes!" I barked back, pulling my precious limb out of reach.

He gazed dumbly back, still looking like he would very much like to eat my arm. "Oh. How'd you get custard all over you?"

I scowled, getting a few more napkins from the table. "I wasn't paying attention and then it appeared on my plate while I had my arm on it."

"But Draco!" he gasped again, looking scandalized. "You said that we should always pay attention!"

"That's just you Crabbe. That's just you." I managed to mumble through gritted teeth.

"Nuh-uh. I thought you told Greg that he had to pay attention too."

I slammed my non-custard-drenched fist down on the table. "Look, if you want to get all technical then let me re-phrase that: YOU and GOYLE have to always pay attention. I, DRACO LUCIUS ARMAGEDON FRANCERIO MALFOY, do NOT! Do-we-have-an-understanding?"

"You have three middle names?"

That was the final straw. I threw down the napkins, picked up my fork and began to scoop giant clumps of custard into my mouth, despite the fact that I hated all things lemon-flavored. "Okay Crabbe," I said thickly. "You win. I am waving the little white flag." I pantomimed doing so, "Now, what do you want from me?"

His round face shone with excitement. "Can I have some custard?"

I pushed the plate toward Crabbe with a heavy sigh, which he immediately began to eat with his hands rather than using the eating utensils sitting right in front of him. I then reached across his head to grab his plate, which had a whole steak on it, along with half a basket of rolls. At least I wouldn't go hungry.

As I ate my steak in peace, I found my eyes flitting up toward Granger more than once. She was chatting away happily with Potter and the two Weasels, hardly touching her food at all. When she did bother to turn to her food, she did it very neatly and primly, the way my mother always looked at dinner parties. Everything was done very slowly and in an extremely lady-like fashion; she cut her meat into small pieces, didn't dare talk with her mouth full and was very careful not to spill anything.

'_It's like she's programmed or something,'_ I thought, disgusted at her properness. _'How could someone behave like that all the time, it must get awfully tiresome after a while. I'm getting sort of sleepy just watching her…'_

"Oy oo fing shpety?"

I turned to the right and saw that Crabbe had licked the plate of lemon custard clean, and now had his mouth overflowing with chocolate cake. Evidently his nonsense words had been aimed at me, for he was looking down at me with inquiring eyes (in a half-witted sense, of course). I gave him some random second year's goblet of pumpkin juice, and he downed it in 3 seconds flat.

"Thanks." Crabbe said, then in the same breath went on, "Do you think she's pretty?"

I blinked at him, my hand hovering over a roll. "What? Do I think who's pretty?" I answered blankly. Was Crabbe…_talking_ to me? About…_girls_? I didn't think he even knew what a girl was!

"_She_." He repeated, like I was the stupid one.

"Who?"

"Her." Crabbe waved his hand at the Gryffindor table. "The Mudblood."

I was too shocked my Crabbe's behavior to protest right away. When had he learned to string two words together? I didn't remember teaching him that. Perhaps he had been practicing over the summer?

Then the full meaning of what he had said became apparent to me. "NO!" I practically shouted back, cuffing him in the ear. "Where did you get that idea?"

Crabbe shrugged. "Well, you were looking at her like this." He set his elbow on the table and rested the side of his face on his hand, smiling with mild interest. Then with his other hand, he picked up his fork and began stabbing at the food on it, missing almost every time. Crabbe stopped, and let his fork clatter onto the table. "And Pansy told me that when a boy looks at a girl like that, he finds her at-atrick-atickle…"

"Attractive?" I drawled back, getting bored with his spluttering.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, nodding his head. "That's the word. It means 'pretty'." He added very seriously.

I made a mental note to kill Parkinson later. "Well, guess what Crabbe: I don't!" I threw my hands up into the air with a big, obviously fake, grin. "I don't think the Mudblood is pretty! In fact, I find that just thinking about her makes me want to throw up. All better." Dropping my overly-cherry manner, I said, "Now, be quiet and eat."

"Pansy said that if you really like her, then you'll deny it at first." Crabbe hummed knowingly.

I froze with a very confused look on my face. "Vince…" I said slowly, looking him up and down. "You haven't eaten your wand again, have you?"

"No." he responded, "Why?"

"You're acting really off." I muttered back, continuing to examine him. Was this the same Crabbe that had run into a pole in 5th year because he thought it was a new sort of candy? Was this the same Crabbe that just three months ago asked me how to spell 'the'?

He shook his head. "I'm not acting off. Pansy just said that since this is our last year at Hogwarts, we should be who we truly are inside. She told me that deep down, I was a curious soul waiting to be freed and then I should let that side of my personality shine through." Crabbe finished proudly.

Parkinson again? That girl was just _begging _to be murdered. "Guess what else though, Mr. Curiosity? I've decided on a brand new rule. Do you want to know it?" Crabbe nodded and I dropped my voice down to a whisper so that he would have to lean forward. "No. More. Questions. **Ever**." I pulled back, smirking. "Isn't that great? Now nobody will have to worry about answering stupid questions!" Ignoring the semi-angry look on his face, I turned back to my food. There. The idiot problem was under control for now.

Something hard poked me in the back. "Malfoy." Came a girl's voice, that sounded suspiciously like…

Without thinking, I gave a high-pitched scream and ducked under the table as fast as I could, yelling, "HAVE MERCY, DON'T SET THE HOUSE-ELVES ON ME!"

The entire Slytherin table grew silent. I could see Granger's feet shuffling around for a moment before she dropped to her knees to look for me. The look on her face wasn't hard to read. "Um Malfoy, we're supposed to go with McGonagal to see our new dorms." She said uncertainly. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

I pushed her out of the way, dusting my robes off. "You didn't frighten me." I snapped. "I always tell people not to set the House-Elves on me."

To no one's surprise, the only one who looked convinced was Crabbe, who waved to me genially as I exited the Hall with my worst fear.

**A/N:** Ta-da! I'm so proud of me for finally posting this. And don't worry, readers of Be a Doll, Chapter 21 is coming soon as well!


	5. The Secret Room

**Another A/N: **Double update! GO ME!

**A/N: **HI! This chapter has a bit of a surprise…it's from Hermione's POV! For this story, I do plan to switch from Draco to Hermione every few chapters, but it's still mostly Draco's story.

As it says in the summary, I'm not going to try and slip the HBP plot into this fic, I'd have a re-write a whole lot of it if I did. But there's something that happened in the sixth book that sort of messes up things for this fic: The Apparition Lessons. I had planned those for this story for the longest time and had no idea that they would learn to Apparate in sixth year instead of seventh. I honestly thought all this up before HBP, so please nobody accuse me of stealing ideas.

Now to thank my fantastical reviewers: **frifri, xXxsweet-dreamerxXx, .Aurorablu., Annamaria, Sayaku-chan, Gentileschi, natyslacks, Baby-Prue, Smile88, and Bookworm1214!**

And the chappie!

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 5: The Secret Room (and the Ruined Room)**

For years I had noticed that Malfoy always acted very oddly around me, but this was a bit much.

I had tried mentioning this to Harry and Ron, but of course, they always took my mentioning him as an opportunity to go through their list of ways to get him expelled. That, or they told me, "Why wouldn't he act funny around us? He _hates_ us." And then go back to debating over Quidditch. Talking to Ginny about it didn't help either. She usually began to rant about a bunch gruesome spells she'd like to try on him, always beginning with the Bat-Bogey Hex, her personal favorite. In other words: they had always been of no use what so ever.

I usually didn't mind, but now I was desperately wishing they would listen to me. First there was the deal with the cookie on the train, then…A blush crept up my face at the thought of the other fiasco on my way here, so I didn't mentally repeat it...anyway, the custard, then screaming like a girl at the feast, and now _this_?

"Hermione, there's nothing to worry about. I'm sure Malfoy has a reasonable explanation for trying to feed Crookshanks some peppermints." Ginny hummed absently, pouring some orange juice for Harry, and passing it to him. "There you are."

"Thanks Gin."

I leaned forward on the bench to talk to him. "Harry? What do you think?"

He shrugged. "Knowing Malfoy, he was probably trying to poison Crookshanks, thought that the peppermints may do him in…why is it bothering you so much? Crookshanks is alright, isn't he?"

"Well, yes…" I said delicately, "But – look Harry, don'tyouthinkthisisjustreallyoddbehaviorevenforMalfoyIthinksometimesupIthinksomething'salwaysbeenupbecausehealwaysactsreallyoddlyaroundmeandImeanmepersonally!" I rushed, not even taking a breath.

"Ron that's mine, _that_ one's yours." Harry pointed out Ron's goblet of orange juice to him, "Remember what happened last time we shared drinks? Oh, what were you saying Hermione?"

I wished I could punch him, but I knew that there were Aurors on Harry's tail at all times and they would probably think I was under the influence of the Imperius Curse. So, instead, I threw my toast at his head. As he brushed crumbs off his glasses, I informed him that I would be in the library and took off towards the Hall's exit.

I ran into an abused-looking Neville near the Slytherin table. "Morning, H-Hermione." He stammered, dancing on the spot. "Where are you going? Don't you want your new schedule?" He motioned to the stack of papers in his arms.

I nodded. "Oh, yes." He continued to dance. "Neville are you al…_Did one of the Slytherins hex you when you walked by_?" I shrieked, pointing at them. They saw me looking their way and began to hiss insults. Someone waved at me, but their arm was knocked out of the air by a very pale one. "Who did it Neville?" I said softly, "Come on, you can tell me, I'm Head Girl."

"No!" he moaned, "They'll just do it again later! Can't you just take the hex off me?"

I sighed, but took out my wand and muttered the counter curse all the same. Neville stopped dancing immediately. "May I have my schedule please?" I asked, holding out my hand.

"I don't have it. Malfoy took it, he hexed me because I tried to get it back-" He gave a tiny squeal when he realized what he had said. "Oh no, I shouldn't have told you that, he's going to get me later!"

MALFOY? I had just about had it with that boy, what was he playing at? Ignoring Neville's whimpers, I marched over to where Malfoy always sat with Crabbe and Goyle. His chair was tipping on the two back legs, and he had his heels resting on the tabletop. I could see he was holding a schedule in each hand, one of which mysteriously had the name 'Hermione Granger' written across the top.

"Look-at-this." He said jerkily, brandishing the two papers wildly. "_Every class._ Every single bloody class! How could they schedule the two of us to have every single class together, The Mudblood Granger's going to drive me crazy!"

Unnoticed by his two cronies, whose heads were bobbing up and down in agreement, I slid right behind Malfoy chair and readied myself. _'One, two, three…'_ I poked him very hard in the back of the head, causing him to lose control of his chair. He let out a yelp and went, arms flailing, flying right onto the table.

Crabbe gasped. "Draco! Are you okay? Were you not paying attention again?"

For some reason that got him all riled up again. Malfoy peeled himself off the table, looking both angry and disgusted – his front was completely covered with some thick yellow custard. "What the hell's the matter with you Granger!" he shouted at me. He held out the front of his robes with the same hand my schedule was in. "That's the second time I've gotten coated with lemon because of you! Why'd you attack me?"

I snatched my schedule out of his hand. "This belongs to me." I said coolly, "I just wanted it back." With that, I turned my back on him and sauntered over to the doors. I took a couple steps backwards before I went through them though. "IF ANYONE IS THINKING OF HEXING ME FOR THAT, YOU BETTER THINK AGAIN." I yelled back to the Slytherin table, waving my wand. "I'm armed."

And at that moment, I couldn't help but think. _'What a peaceful life I'm living.'_

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My mood took a definite upturn when I saw that my first class of the day was Arithmancy. Nothing like a few numbers to get your engines running again. So, after a quick stop at the library, where I merely admired all the neatly filed books for a few minutes (it always looked so nice at the beginning of the year), I went up to Professor Vector's class.

Luckily, I was the first one to arrive and I decided to take a seat directly in the middle, which would give me a perfect view of the board, as long as nobody tall sat in front of me. I had plenty of time before class started though, so I took out my new Arithmancy book and began studying the new number charts, all of which were both complex and fascinating, my favorite combination for schoolwork.

I had been reading for almost five minutes when out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone rush into the room. The person immediately came my way and slid into the seat next to me. "Granger." I literally froze when I heard his voice. What was he doing here? Couldn't I at least read before class without being interrupted by the Amazing, Bouncing Ferret?

"Granger." Malfoy said again, this time more forcefully. "I need to talk to you."

With a heavy sigh, I shut my book and looked up at him. The custard was gone from the front of his robes; now in it's place was a large wet spot. It looked like he had gone to the bathroom to try and wash it out. I suppressed a grin and answered, as politely as I could, "Yes, Malfoy?"

He reached into her robe pocket. "When you…_came to get_ your schedule," he threw me a dirty look, which I expertly ignored. "You didn't take the second page, and I think you might need it. It's pretty important." He handed a folded up piece of paper to me. I took it, and made to stuff it into my bag, but Malfoy stopped me. "Granger, you're the last person on earth that I thought I would ever have to remind to read. I already told you, it's very important, look at it now."

"Fine." I snapped. Although annoyed at being told what to do, I mentally gave myself a little shake. It was very unlike me to do that sort of thing, I really needed to pay attention in the future. Unfolding the paper, I read:

**Apparition Education**

This class is open to seventh years only, and will take place every Saturday of the school year off-location (all of you who have read 'Hogwarts, A History', know that it's impossible to Apparate or Disapparate on the grounds). Professors McGonagal and Flitwick, who will be teaching, will help you get ready in time for the mass Apparition exam the Ministry is preparing for us in December.

_Any seventh years interested should sign up with the Heads' as soon as possible. Any questions can be asked to Professors McGonagal and Flitwick._

The notice ended there and glanced back up at Malfoy, who was looking at me expectantly for some reason. "Okay, thank you for giving this back to me." I said, puzzled. What exactly was he waiting for?

He made a sort of exasperated noise and then unfolded his own 'Apparition Ed' notice and read the next to last sentence again. "_Any seventh years interested should sign up with the Heads' as soon as possible._" When I continued to stare, Malfoy rolled his eyes and yelled "The HEADS! That means US, Granger, we are Head Boy and Girl in case you have forgotten!"

"OH!" I exclaimed, my eyes growing wide with realization. "Oh! How could I have let it slip my mind, I've been such a bad role model, what would people think if they found out-"

"As much as I love traveling, I'd rather not come along on your guilt trip." drawled Malfoy, smirking. "Save it for someone who cares, Mudblood. Now can we just decide who's going to do what, I have more important things to do than sit here chatting with the likes of _you_." He added impatiently.

Once again ignoring him (that was pretty much the only way to deal with Malfoy), I went into my bag and pulled out just the right thing for the job: Parchment Mini-Scrolls. I had bought them on my last trip to Diagon Alley, and they were perfect for making short lists.

I took out four Mini-Scrolls and wrote 'Apparition Ed. Sign Up' on the top of each one, then put a House name. I put a quick drying charm on the ink before handing Malfoy the Slytherin sign-up scroll. "You can do Slytherin, and I'll do Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff." I told him, thinking it wise not to trust him with anyone but his own Housemates.

Apparently he thought differently. "I can handle more than one house, Granger. I am, after all, the one who had to remind you to work." He scowled. To my surprise, he leaned over and plucked up another sign-up scroll – The Hufflepuff one. I almost had a heart attack on the spot. If Draco Malfoy was going to peacefully take down the names of Hufflepuffs that wanted to sign up for Apparition Ed., then I was the Boy-Who-Lived.

I reached over and put the Hufflepuff scroll back in front of me. "No that's alright, Malfoy." I said hurriedly. "I don't mind doing three."

"Well, I mind doing only one." He took the scroll back. "So I think this'll even everything out.

"Why don't you do…Ravenclaw?" I squeaked hopefully, dropping the Hufflepuff one in front of me again.

"No, no, I'd prefer to do Hufflepuff." The scroll was on his side of the table now.

I slid it back over to me. "I'd prefer if you did Ravenclaw."

Snatch. "I don't really care what you prefer. I want to do Hufflepuff."

"I think it would be easier on everyone if you just stuck with Slytherin and Ravenclaw." I said, as I snatched it.

Malfoy took it back almost immediately. "Who said I wanted to make things easier on people? I'm doing Slytherin and Hufflepuff and that's final."

"No. I am. You're doing Ravenclaw." I picked up the scroll once more, but this time, he closed his hand around the other end. He wasn't going to let me have it. "Let go." I told him firmly, giving the scroll a tug.

He tugged back. "You let go. I'm the one doing Hufflepuff, so I should have this scroll."

I pulled on it again, hoping to catch him off guard. "You're not doing Hufflepuff, and I have no plans to give you this scroll. I'm only going to tell you one more time Malfoy, _LET GO_."

"I don't see that happening any time soon." He said in mock-politeness, now tugging on the other end of the scroll so hard that I lurched forward.

"Stop! You're going to rip it!"

"I won't rip it if you just give it to me!"

I uttered a soft scream of fury. "Let go this instant! Don't make me hex y-" Malfoy grabbed my other wrist with his free hand to insure that I couldn't reach my wand. "Don't even try it." He breathed.

He was yelping a few seconds later when I dug my nails into his forearm. "OUCH! What's the matter with you woman, are you trying to kill me?" I now put both my hands on my end of the scroll, wand forgotten. I was going to win this the old-fashioned way.

"Give-it-to-me!" he growled, as we both pulled with all our might, jerking each other all over the place. It was almost like a game of tug-o-war, except neither of us was having fun, and in tug-o-war your usually yanking on a rope and not a Parchment Mini-Scroll. And it wasn't hard to say which activity I enjoyed more.

I shook my head furiously "NO! I'm not going to let you do Hufflepuffs, stick with your own stupid House!"

"Ah-HEM!" a loud voice cut right into our little fight. Malfoy and I both looked up and saw that the rest of the class had already filed in and were all staring, pointing and laughing at the two of us openly. Professor Vector himself was standing in the front of the room, glaring at us sternly over the top of his glasses. "Mr. Malfoy? Ms. Granger? Do you mind if we interrupt your conversation to start class?"

I let of the tiny scroll fall from my hands out of sheer embarrassment and began to unpack my class materials, muttering a "Sorry, Professor. It won't happen again Professor." to my feet. But something happened as I watched the floor. The Hufflepuff scroll had fallen beneath the table and Malfoy was bent double to pick it up. Our eyes met and he passed a silent message on to me as he pocketed the mini-scroll.

"_Thanks, Mudblood."_

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The rest of my first day back was mostly spent signing people up for Apparition Ed and saving those whom Malfoy was signing up. He seemed to think it terribly funny to hex people from behind while they wrote their name on the list (for Ernie Macmillan it literally was _behind_ - Malfoy put an Engorgement Charm on his bottom) or to verbally abuse those who didn't want to learn to Apparate to tears ("I knew you wouldn't want to Apparate Finch-Fletchey, everyone knows Mudblood's usually die attempting to learn.").

On top of it all, I still had classes to attend. I never thought I'd be glad to be stuck with Malfoy all day, but it actually came in handy because I was able to keep a close watch on him. Even though he had won our battle for the Hufflepuff sign-up scroll, I wasn't about to let him bully them all. I hardly even had time to talk with Harry and Ron I was so busy chasing Malfoy around.

When classes finally ended I just about ran back to my new dorms. The day had been absolutely exhausting. I still had about seven people who said that they "didn't know" if they wanted to take Apparition Ed or not and were on standby until they got advice from their parents via owl, so I hadn't even been able to turn in my scrolls to McGonagal. Not to mention most Hufflepuffs were afraid to sign up for the class for fear of being turned into a toad by Malfoy. It would be nice to go back to my empty, silent common room, curl up in a comfy armchair and start on my Ancient Rune translations…

And then, my fantasy was ruined. In more ways than one.

I stepped through the door to the common room and instantly my jaw dropped. It was a mess! All three of the armchairs were on fire, the curtains had been frozen and shattered, my desk had a hole in it and the picture of the Four Founders hanging above the fireplace was glowing hot pink. The culprit himself, Malfoy, was lying on the couch directly in the middle of the room, smiling slightly and pointing his wand up at the ceiling. He heard me come in and said lazily, "Hello, Mudblood. Did you know that this ceiling repels just about every spell? It's an amazingly strong enchantment if I do say so myself."

I felt like crying. How could he have ruined our beautiful common room? That we had just gotten _yesterday_? "Malfoy, what have you done?" I shrieked, looking around for more damage. "What is the matter with you?"

He responded by shooting another spell at the ceiling, which ricocheted off the tough stone and came shooting right at me. I screamed and ducked out of the way, so the spell hit the lamp behind me with a purple blast. "You did that on purpose!" I yelled at him, stomping my foot.

Malfoy nodded his head as he sat up. "Yes."

"Oh, would you just quit it?" If he thought I wasn't going to take action, than he was sorely mistaken. I stomped over to the burning chairs and put out the fires with water from the end of my wand. The shards of curtain came back together with a simple "_Reparo_!" and I unfroze them before hanging them back up. The desk was a little tougher. I would have to put a Wood-Regrowing Charm on it, which was a spell I hadn't completely mastered yet. I decided to test it on something later and for now just focus on the Founder's glowy pink picture.

"Hey, don't do that." Came Malfoy's voice suddenly, when he saw me heading for the picture with my wand out.

I scowled at him. "Malfoy, you may have ruined the common room, but I'm not going to let it _stay_ ruined. I'll fix my desk later, but this picture is going to go back to normal whether you like it or not."

He stood up and started to come my way. "Don't try and take the spell off that picture Granger. It's a bad idea."

"Are you threatening me now, Malfoy?" I gave a humorless laugh and my wand gave off a few red sparks. "You're really funny, you know that? I could charm circles around you." It sounded a bit arrogant, but I knew it was true; I was the top in my year and nothing he said was going to make me back down.

"Granger, I mean it. If you try and take that spell off-"

"I already told you, your little threats don't scare me!" I said, no longer wishing to hesitate. I pointed my wand directly at the picture and yelled _"Finite Incantatum!"_

I wasn't sure what hit me. One second I had been standing there next to the pink picture, the next I was being thrown back onto another body and a blinding white light had filled the room. I shielded my eyes as Malfoy and I slid across the room, coming to a halt on the wall next to his bedroom door.

The light only lasted a few seconds but it left both of us temporarily blinded and disoriented. I simply sat there blinking rapidly, trying to regain sight. I didn't even realize what I was sitting on until he pushed me off of his stomach and into the wall.

"OH YEAH, NOBODY LISTEN TO DRACO, RIGHT?" Malfoy bellowed. Spots were still popping in front of my eyes, but I could see him get up and begin to eat some sort of candy. The sharp smell of peppermint filled my nostrils, and it helped me come back to my senses "I TOLD YOU GRANGER! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAKE THE SPELL OFF OF IT, BUT YOU WOULDN'T LISTEN! THAT SPELL WILL ONLY COME OFF IF THE CASTER PERFORMS THE COUNTER-CHARM!"

He continued to rant about my stupidity. I pressed my palms to the wall so that I would be able to stand. I expected to feel the cold stone, but what my hands came in contact with was…wood? I patted the wall again in the same spot, and looked to make sure what it was I was touching. Again, it felt like wood, but blended in perfectly with the stone wall. Was I imagining things?

"…AND NOW YOU LAND RIGHT ON TOP OF BE, DON'T YOU THINK YOU'VE-"

I tapped Malfoy's shoes. "Get down here."

"Why?" he stopped yelling, and looked at me. "What's down there?"

"COME." I yanked him down by the back of his robes. He landed beside me with a soft thump and I pointed to the wall. "What's this?"

Malfoy stared at me with a confused expression. "The wall."

"I know, but what is it made out of?"

"Stone."

I grabbed his hand and directed it toward "Now touch it. The wall. Tell me what it feels like.

Still looking at me like I was a crazy person, he put his hand on the wall. The second he touched it he drew back. "It – It feels like wood." He said, awestruck. "But it looks like stone. Is the whole wall like that?"

"That's what I want to know." I answered. "Stay quiet for a minute." He actually stopped talking. I was surprised, but gladly so. Silence was what I needed for this. I ran my hands along the bottom of the wall, where it met the floor. Oddly enough, the "wood" section of the wall only stretched about four feet across. Hmm. Could it be…I then slowly inched my way up the sides of the wood. It was only three feet high. One last test. From the three-foot span, I brought my hands together against the fall, making sure the wood was still there. My hands meet 1 and ½ feet in.

Malfoy and I registered what it meant at the same time. "A door." We said in unison.

I started to mark the "wood" door red with my wand, while Malfoy watched. Once the entire thing was colored in, I tried every opening spell I had ever heard: Alhomora, Patefacre and even Hiscere (that one was technically used to make people talk, but you never know what might've worked). None of them made the door move. None of them did anything to the door at all. I turned to Malfoy. "Why's there a sealed door outside your bedroom? Where does it lead? What could it mean?"

Malfoy stopped staring at me and got up. "I'll tell you what it means: nothing. It doesn't matter Granger. If it did, I'm sure someone would've told us about it."

"Maybe we're supposed to-" I started, but he cut me off.

"We're not supposed to open it Granger. Trust me on this one."

Trust _him_? Never. "How could you just stumble upon something so mysterious and not want to investigate? How could you not care?" I asked incredulously. Had this been Harry or Ron we would've been half way to the library by now.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at me. "How could I not care? Like this." Suddenly, he was skipping around the room like a foolish schoolgirl singing, "Not caring, not caring, not caring, not caring…"

"Malfoy?"

He was still skipping. "What?"

"You are really weird."

**A/N:** Review. Please?


	6. My Insane Parallelogram

**A/N: **Hullu all! It's Chapter 6! Finally! Yes, I am working on Chapter 22 of Be a Doll - it just needs a bit more work. Now, to thank the people who took time and reviewed this:

**natyslacks, Sayaku-chan, .Aurorablu., cunzhottie, Gentileschi, Bookworm1214, frifri, Smile88, Hermione490, kat, and o0UNoPoo0o!** I thanketh the eleven of you greatly. And here's the chappie!

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 6: My Insane Parallelogram (and My Inner Eleven-Year-Old)**

Unbeknownst to the little lady herself, Hermione Jane Granger had helped me on numerous occasions.

It was actually because of her that I was presently Head Boy. Back in first year I couldn't care less about my studies – especially Potions, considering the fact that if I didn't do my work there was no penalty, as the teacher was Snape. I skived off classes whenever I didn't feel like going, rarely did any sort of homework, and on occasion, took naps during tests.

I suppose that I must blame those things on my own cockiness. I knew I was extremely talented (how many people did you know could perform a Summoning Charm at the age of ten?) so just didn't see much point in bothering with lessons. There was no way the end of year exams were going to be any challenge whatsoever.

Well, at least that's what I thought. When I got back my exam scores I actually stopped breathing for a moment. I did pass, but barely, and I mean _barely_. Crabbe and I even had the same low score for Herbology, which was a sure sign at how poorly I did (he didn't know the difference between a daisy and a tulip, much less how to care for Itching Fungi). I was certain my parents were going to kill me when they found out, but they did nothing of the sort. In fact, the punishment they worked up was quite idiotic. I had to read my schoolbooks for an hour each day during the holidays. I didn't even have to do it. All I did was shut myself up in my room for an hour and they assumed I had been studying. Everything was going great. It was, anyway, until I went to Diagon Alley.

Father took me school shopping without Mother that year. I remember being very happy about that. He always got annoyed with me much quicker that Mother did, so it would be easier to whine my way into getting gifts. But then, when we went into Borgin and Burkes, something very strange happened: Father said no. That was very peculiar for him. My father never said a flat-out no to me. It was always "Maybe for your birthday" or "Later, Draco", but never "I _said_ I would buy you a racing broom" which really meant "As if, shut up and leave me alone, Whiny" which really meant "NO". And then he went and embarrassed me in front of the shopkeeper. Father actually had the nerve to say that Granger, whom I mentioned was the top witch in my year, was a Mudblood. He also said, and rather loudly too, that I might turn out to be a thief if my grades didn't pick up.

Now that was ridiculous. I was smart and he knew it. Back then my life's ambition was to be a rich, traveling salesman (I don't have the faintest idea why. Eleven-year-old stupidity, anyone?) and you couldn't be a salesman if you _stole _things. Well, you could, but that's not the point. The point is, it was at that moment that I figured out why my parents had given me such a lame punishment - they had given up hope on me. They figured I was stupid and that they would have to support me for the rest of their lives, that I was lower than a muggleborn.

From then on I became a good student. I worked myself day and night to do my homework to the best of my ability. I read ahead so that I could master all the charms before they were taught in class. I even went to the library. And you know what was the one thing driving me to do well? The fact that I had to beat Granger. She was a Mudblood and I was a Pureblood. Naturally I was supposed to be better! Everyone was going to see that a sissy little Gryffindor wasn't going to get the best of me. I achieved too. I was Head Boy for crying out loud, ranking second out of the whole school! So I hadn't beat Granger yet; big deal. I was right on her tail, and that was damn well good enough for me.

But even though she had helped me, that didn't mean I had to help her. Despite the fact that I really, really, really wanted to know what was behind that door too. At least that's what I had to keep telling myself if I planned to keep my dignity.

The thing was, I had a very strong curious side. It could overpower me at times and make me do extremely stupid things (the Yule Ball incident for starters – don't ask). Of course, my curious side was no where near as strong as my insane side, that of which was so powerful a side didn't even cover it. An insane _parallelogram_ would be more fitting to describe my craziness. Anyway, this curious side of me wanted to go help Granger out, because even though I had forcefully told her that I didn't care, using some very swaying actions I…did.

To make matters worse, I knew of a spell that Granger hadn't tried the night before when we had first discovered the door and I was sorely tempted to try it out. I had to rely on Crabbe and Goyle pin me to my chair during lessons so that I wouldn't run out of the room back to my dorm, cackling like a maniac. Well, I didn't actually tell them that. I told them I had a disease called "Seeker Syndrome" that spontaneously made me run against my will.

"That's horrible Draco!" Crabbe shouted, when I first told him about my 'condition', as we sat waiting for Transfiguration to start, "You should try and find a cure!" The two of them took a firm hold on each of my arms, and I became sure that I wouldn't try to leave the room.

"Yeah!" Goyle agreed, nodding his head so vigorously his face was a blur, "I know - let's try the library! My mommy told me that there's _stuff_ in the library!"

Crabbe brightened. "No. I've got a better idea. Let's ask the Mudblood. She knows _stuff_ too!"

"But I thought we weren't allowed to talk to Mudbloods?"

"Oh, we can talk to her," Crabbe reassured him, "Draco's in denial." He puffed out his chest proudly. "Pansy taught me that word."

Goyle did his face-blurring nod again. "Okay. Come on!" Without letting go of my arms, the two of them stood up and began to drag me across the room to where the Gryffindors were sitting. I was struggling to get free at once.

"What – no – Crabbe, Goyle, put me down!" I shouted, thrashing wildly. "Don't take me to the Mudblood, I don't need her help – no, stop it!" They had lifted me off the ground and now I was merely kicking stupidly in mid-air, trapped by my own cronies.

"Don't worry Draco, I'm sure she'll have the cure." Crabbe said in what he probably thought was a calming voice. "You'll be better in no time."

I tried to pull my arm away from him, but it was no use. "I don't want to be better! I'm not even sick!" I exclaimed.

"Boy, he really is in denial." Goyle muttered under his breath.

We were upon the Gryffindors now. I could see Granger, seated between her bodyguards, copying something out of a huge book. Potter and Weasley were happily talking over her workspace, occasionally breaking out into loud laughter. Crabbe and Goyle finally set me back on the ground and frog-marched me toward their group.

"Hello, Mudblood!" Crabbe called cheerily, giving her a hard tap on the head. "Can you help Draco?"

Granger set down her quill and stared up at the three of us, giving me an especially icy glare. "What's this all about Malfoy?" she questioned us sharply, as though we were playing some sort of trick on her. Potter and Weasley suddenly stopped talking and hastily pulled their wands from their pockets.

Before I could explain, Crabbe had opened his big mouth. "He's got Seeker Syndrome!"

For some reason, at his words she went very white. "What? He's got-"

McGonagal walked into the room, a stack of books in her arms. "Everyone settle down and get into your seats!" she barked. Her gaze swept over to the six of us. "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, what's going on here?"

Granger stood up, looking alarmed. "Professor McGonagal, Malfoy's got Seeker Syndrome!" she squealed shrilly. "Crabbe just told me!"

The books fell out of McGonagal's arms straight away and she dashed over to our odd group. "Are you sure?" She pressed the back of her hand to my forehead and peered into my pupils before giving a slight yelp. "I think he does! Yes – he's warm – a vacant, dull expression in the eyes…" Then the Professor flashed her watch in my face and by instinct I reared as the glare hit me squarely in the eye. She yelped again. "And the shiny objects! Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, get him to the Hospital Wing, quickly!"

"Wha…?" I gasped, but it was too late. Crabbe and Goyle were already escorting me out of the room and the last thing I saw was Granger's shaking profile as she attempted to explain what had just happened to Potter and Weasley, both of whom were scratching their heads like baboons.

I found myself wishing Crabbe and Goyle were half as smart as the two of them.

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Madam Pomfrey patted me on the head sympathetically once she had successfully bound me to the hospital bed. "Don't worry dear. We'll have you fixed up in no time. I'm going to go run some tests to make sure you're sick." She bustled away from my bed and went to her office to go put the blood sample she had taken earlier in some sort of potion.

I would have protested (again), but she had put a Silencing Charm on me the moment I arrived in the Hospital Wing to help me "calm down" and my vocal cords were presently useless. Not being able to complain was what wasn't good for me though. It gave me time to think, and, as proved before, was a very bad thing for Draco Malfoy.

Seeker Syndrome. How was I supposed to know it was a real disease? It didn't have anything to do with running around against your will, but instead made you temporarily lose your mind and become terribly attracted to shiny objects, which you would begin to collect like a raccoon. The illness was especially common in Quidditch players, who can catch it when they inhale too many broom polish fumes. Apparently Filch had gotten it three years back after he polished every single school broom, which would explain why he had taken Millicent's fake-silver bracelet without reason and never gave it back. The only way to cure it was to relax, be kept away from anything too shiny, and be fed a Calming Draught every half-hour for two days.

I only knew this now because Madam Pomfrey had read it to me out of a book. She said that if I knew what was wrong with me, it would help me get better faster. Of course, if she hadn't silenced me I would have told her that I had been faking the disease and had just made it up because I needed my friends to hold me down so that I wouldn't be tempted by Granger and her stupid door.

Okay, maybe I wouldn't have told her that, but I would've at least said that I felt fine.

I wondered what everyone was doing, considering they were all under the impression that I was terribly ill. Maybe my entire Transfiguration class was mourning in my absence. Or perhaps they were angry that I was sick and decided to blame someone…Granger could probably be held responsible…the cookie! Someone could've found out about the cookie I ate on the train and thought that's what caused it! I amused myself by imagining McGonagal and the rest of my class (minus the Gryffindor's) chucking Granger off a cliff as a human sacrifice in order for me to regain my health. It was a hilarious image. I could see her perfectly, spindly little arms flailing in attempts to reach her wand. But no, they had taken it before throwing her off so that she couldn't magick her way out of trouble…ah the possibilities…

Suddenly, interrupting my thoughts of torture, an ear-splitting cry of outrage came from Madam Pomfrey's office, followed by a loud smash. My magical binding came free and I sat up immediately, rubbing my arms to get the blood flowing back to them. What had happened?

Then, a water jug came crashing down on my head.

I feel off the bed straight away, stars popping in front of my eyes. Where the hell had that come fr-

"GAK!" Something hit me over the head again, but it was an even bigger object and the force of it was even more than before. I was now sprawled on the ground with my face pressed into the stone, head aching as I struggled to sit back up. "Madam Pomfrey!" I cried weakly, dodging a textbook as it flew toward me, "Something's wrong."

There was a clatter in the back room. "YES, YES THERE IS DEFINIETLY SOMETHING WRONG HERE MR. MALFOY! AND ODDLY ENOUGH, IT ISN'T YOUR HEALTH!" I looked at the doorway to the office but immediately wished I hadn't. Madam Pomfrey stood there, a total mess. Her were eyes wild, her silver hair sticking out all over the place and fists that kept curling and uncurling, as though wishing my neck was being wrung between them.

'_Cool. Now I know what Granger'll look like when she'd old.'_

But no time to dwell on that. I was in for a beating, I could tell. I slipped into my 'poor, injured little boy' character (which really wasn't far from what I was actually feeling at the moment, but nobody needs to know that, okay?). "Madam Pomfrey! What's the matter, what happened? Why are you-" She cut me off with a flick of her wand. I dived under the bed as dozens of tongue depressors shot toward me, starting to prod me wherever they could reach.

"GET OUT!" she bellowed.

"What?" I chanced peeking through the hanging blankets. Little wooden sticks came for my face, but I lifted my hands to protect myself. Oh no. No nurse was going to ruin my good looks, no matter how mad she was.

Madam Pomfrey's face was contorted with rage. "YOU HEARD ME! GET OUT, _OUT_ I SAY, AND YOU BETTER NOT EVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN UNLESS YOU'RE _DYING_!" she saw I made no attempts to move and levitated the bed that I had been hiding under into the air. Unfortunately, this did not stop the sharp pokes of the tongue depressors. I darted all over the place trying to escape them. "OUT." The nurse yelled again, pointing her wand at the door. It banged open.

As if I needed to be told twice after a performance like that. I scrambled as fast as I could out the door, still swatting away some particularly depressors as I ran through the empty halls. First class was going to be over soon, and I had to get rid of the sticks before everyone saw me make a fool of myself fighting off bits of wood. Then I remembered; I had a wand. Pulling it out of my robe pocket, I aimed the tip of it over my shoulder. "_Impedimenta_!"

The tongue depressors froze in mid-air. I continued to sprint until I reached the end of the hall, where I stopped to take a breath and make sure I still wasn't being chased. I couldn't help butsmirk slightly at me own genius. By the time my spell wore off, the one the old bat Pomfrey had put on them would be worn off as well. I wouldn't have to worry about vicious tongue depressors again for a long time.

Or at all, if I was lucky.

Exactly 19 seconds later the bell that signaled the end of classes rang (A/N: Is there a bell at Hogwarts? I don't see to recall.). Students began to flow out of the classrooms, and it was then that I realized I was standing right outside the door to Transfiguration. Excellent. All I had to do was stick with Crabbe and Goyle the rest of the day and maybe no one would question the fact that I had recovered so quickly.

But, knowing my wonderful luck, the first person out of the room was not a Slytherin, but instead a Gryffindor. A particular one. Three guesses who.

Granger was loaded down with twice her usual amount. At first I wondered why, but then realized that she was carrying my bag. She didn't notice me standing right in front of her, for had her head turned, informing her bodyguards about something. "I'll be right back you two, I'm only going to bring Malfoy his things. It's my duty as Head Girl."

I couldn't resist. "Indeed." I drawled.

She stopped short, staring up at my perfectly healthy, and handsome might I add, face. After a long while, "What are you doing here?" Granger asked flatly. "I thought you had Seeker Syndrome."

"I got better. Can I have my stuff back? I don't want you mucking it up with your Mudbloodliness."

Granger didn't seem to have heard me. By the expression she was wearing, I could definitely say that something had just dawned on her. I didn't have all day though. "My bag, if you don't mind?" I persisted.

"You LIED."

The pure disgust in her tone made me nervous. "No, I got better is all. Really, really fast. Us Malfoy's can do that, you know."

"YOU LIED!" she said again, much louder this time. A few people in the hallway turned to stare at us. I looked helplessly back at Granger, knowing that I had really done it this time. "I can't believe you Malfoy! You _lied_ about having Seeker Syndrome! I knew it had to be a hype, I knew it! You can't be trusted! I was, was…" Her already huge eyes grew even wider. "I WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU, AND YOU WERE LYING THE WHOLE TIME!"

And then, without any sort of warning, she threw my bag, full of heavy books, right at my head before marching off in the opposite direction. The forces of it made me knock the back of my head into the wall, so my entire skull was in pain.

"AW, C'MON GRANGER, THAT'S NOT RIGHT!" I shouted after her, gripping my throbbing head. Now more than a few people were staring at me. "Why do you always have to do things like that? I gave your cat peppermints! I saved you when the glowy pink pictured attacked you!" I paused, trying to think of other reasons why she shouldn't beat me up. "I didn't even really mean it when I threw you off that cliff!" I yelled, but she had disappeared around the corner, completely ignoring my defenses. People were continuing to watch me as though I was mad, but I didn't care; my head hurt too much

"Hey, Draco!" Crabbe and Goyle had finally come out of the Transfiguration room. They rushed over to me. "Draco!" Crabbe said again, thumping me on the back. "You're all better from Seeker Syndrome! But you were yelling some pretty funny stuff at the Mudblood. Do you want us to take you back to the Hospital Wing?"

I bolted.

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From it's bad start, my day just got worse. I returned to the Head Common Room that night grumbling. I had gone to McGonagal to hand in the Apparition Ed. scrolls for Slytherin and Hufflepuff and she too had given me a good shouting out for not really having Seeker Syndrome ("I AM ASTOUNDED THAT YOU, AS HEAD BOY, WOULD STOOP AS LOW AS FEIGNING ILLNESS JUST TO GET OUT OF CLASS!"). I wished I could blame it on Granger, but then I would have to explain about the door, but I had a feeling I wasn't supposed to know about that.

'_Speaking of Granger and the door…'_ I looked around the Common Room. Big-Head Girl hadn't come back to dorms yet…maybe I could try out the spell on the door. If it worked then I could brag to Granger that I figured it out before her, but if I didn't, nobody had to know. The red piece of wood looked so tempting. Possibly all I had to do to find out all its secrets is use one little opening spell.

I didn't hesitate any longer. I went into my bedroom, threw my bag to the floor, and ran back out, rolling up my sleeves. "Alright, Draco." I muttered to myself. I drew my wand. "Concentrate. You want that door opened. _Agitare_!" I exclaimed.

Nothing happened.

I tried the spell again. "_Agitare_!"

Still nothing.

"_Agitare_!" I made the wand movement much sharper this time. A lazy purple mist floated out, but quickly died.

"Your not focusing Draco, remember, see the door moving for you to open…_AGITARE_!"

Again with no avail, but this time there was something different. Granger was standing next to the portrait hole, fuming at the sight of me. "Oh, if it isn't the Faking Ferret." She sneered.

My heart lifted. Normally I would be downright annoyed at the fact that she was still going on about something, but this time it was helping. She hadn't noticed me using the spell on the door at all!

"Hey, I told you Muddy, I didn't fake. I made a miraculous recovery. It isn't unheard of."

"Yeah right." She stomped over to her room, which was directly across from where I was standing. She set her bag down next to the door, but did not go in. "Everyone knows you were only doing it to get out of Transfiguration, you lying, scheming…what are you doing with your wand? Not destroying the common room again, are you?"

I pocketed my wand. "Nothing." I tried changing the subject as a distraction. "By the way, I wasn't 'destroying the common room' yesterday, I was just checking the strength of the ceiling."

Granger wasn't listening, having taken to eyeing the scene before her.

"And why are you-" she stopped in mid-sentence. A sly little grin grew on her face. "OH! Mr. Malfoy, mind telling me what your up to?" Granger said silkily. She brought one hand her forehead in mock surprise. "Whatever are you doing by that secret door?" she quipped innocently. "I thought you said that you didn't care. You even skipped for me to prove your point!"

I could feel myself blanching. "It's not – it's not what you think - " I stuttered, "I was just trying to get into my room."

It was obvious that this story had not fooled her in the least. I had been caught, red-door and all. "Oh _really_?" Now Granger was slinking toward me, still grinning, "So that would explain why you had your wand pointed right at the door," Step. If she reached her hand out, most of it would've gone through me. "You were yelling an opening spell at it," Another step. I could see every crease in the shoulders of her robes. What cheap material. "And why you look so nervous," She took her final step toward me. I felt her warm breath curl onto my neck and held back a gasp. "Wouldn't it, Malfoy?"

I was at a loss for words. She had caught me. That much I could live with. But what now? She had just backed me up into a wall for Merlin's sake. What would you do if your worst enemy/fear suddenly did that sort of thing to you _and she's female_? Seeing as this sort of predicament didn't happen very often, I had only two choices. I would either have to (insert involuntary shudder here) give into my hormones or, worse, if that's possible – answer her. Both would end in my demise.

Which is why, in my ultimate desperation, I allowed my insane parallelogram to come out, and it immediately directed my hand to the doorknob behind me. I turned the knob. Took a giant step backwards as I pushed the door in.

Granger, on the other hand, stumbled and, seeing as I was the only thing holding her up, fell smack dab on her ass.

I was in hysterics. "Ha – stupid – ha – Mudblood!" I laughed, seating myself on the trunk at the end of my bed. I couldn't even stand up I was laughing so hard. "You can't get in here Granger. I know a few things about how these dorms are set up." I did too. I wasn't even pretending this time.

By now, Granger had picked herself up from the ground. She stood directly out of my doorway. "Oh can't I?" She lifted her foot and stepped right into my bedroom, no troubles at all.

I almost gagged. How did she do that? "That's not fair!" I burst finally, sounding remarkably like my eleven-year-old self. Hmm. Maybe my parents did have a point when they said I was whiny. "Why can you come in my room, but I can't get into yours?"

Granger raised a suspicious eyebrow at me. "You've tried?"

"NO." I said quickly, steering my gaze away from her. Okay, so I had, but not for any reason that you think. She hadn't even been in the room at the time. I had tried to get in earlier that day, during on of my breaks, to see if her cat would eat a Sugar Quill. I figured that since it liked peppermints, maybe I could get it to eat other candies too. Unfortunately, when I approached her bedroom door and attempted to walk in, some invisible force kept causing me to bounce back, making it impossible to enter.

"You can't get into my room because you're a boy." Granger said prissily, and I knew I was about to have 'Hogwarts, a History' recited at me. "But I can get into your room even though I'm a girl. The founders," she pointed back at the hot pink picture in the common room. "Thought that girls were more trustworthy than boys, so they fixed everything up like this."

My jaw almost hit the floor. "How are girls more trustworthy than boys? Are you saying that if a girl just waltzed here in the middle of the night, we could - "

She didn't even let me finish my sentence. "Of course not. As if the founders didn't think of that. Watch." Granger walked over to where I was sitting on the trunk, and yanked out one of her hairs. She then brought her hand abouttwo feet over the bed, and released the hair onto it.

When her hair came in contact with my blanket, a yellow ray whipped out of the very bed itself and zapped it. I stared at my lethal bed with wide eyes. "I am not sleeping on that thing anymore."

"Don't be stupid." Granger scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That only happens if I, or any other girl, tries to get on it. There are other precautions, too." She took me by the wrist, lifting me up from my seat on the trunk and led me across the room. My curious side very interested in what she was about to show me. "Take off your shirt."

She laughed at the shocked look on my face. "No really, go on, you'll see what I'm getting at." The Gryffindor goaded me on, waving her hands in a very knowing way.

'_Might as well.'_ I thought, shrugging. "Fine. Please don't jump on me in lust when you see how gorgeous I am." I warned her, pulling off my robe and throwing it aside. "Although I suppose the founders would put a stop to that too, wouldn't they?"

"You suppose correctly. But I honestly don't see myself trying that sort of thing anyway, so no worries."

I would have countered her remark, but was too preoccupied with my shirt. It didn't want to come untucked. I tried to unbutton it instead. That didn't work either. Perhaps I could get it to slip off over my head? I pulled at the collar, but it wouldn't budge even the tiniest bit. It seemed as though my shirt had become attached to me. I glanced over at Granger quizzically, who had been watching the whole episode, becomingly increasingly amused.

"See?" she said brightly, handing me back my robe. "It doesn't work because I'm here. It's impossible to take off our clothes in each other's presence, or to have one or both of us to be unclothed while in the same room. And if you tried to undress me, or I you…well, let's just say we wouldn't be able to do much of anything for a while." She walked out of the room while she said this and stupidly enough, I followed, shutting my bedroom door behind me.

"What?" I asked, "Would my hands get stuck together or something?"

Granger spun on the spot to face me, beaming, "Precisely. The Four Founders had to be the smartest group of witches and wizards ever – well, along with Dumbledore. I can't hardly believe that some of the things they did were even probable. They actually _developed_ a load of common spells we know today. It's all so fascinating!"

I could only look at her. She was smiling and laughing and chattering; what a show. It was almost as entertaining as totally pissing her off. But sadly (for her) I had tons much more fun getting her mad, so there was no chance that I was going to stop torturing her.

My Object of Amusement stopped babbling, staring at the secret door forlornly. "It's a pity we can't figure this out." Granger said, shaking her head, "Who knows if it's some great secret that the Founder's meant for the Head Boy and Girl to find? It could be some really powerful magic, maybe a cure for something. The possibilities are endless."

"I think we could do it." I answered, surveying the door very carefully. "I mean, how hard can opening a wooden door be? Even if it is magical, there must be something out there."

Her eyes darted at me for a millisecond, but hurriedly refocused on the door. I should have known then that she was up to something. "True. Are you saying you'll help me then? Wonderful. I'll get some books and we can get started tomorrow after classes."

It wasn't until she had taken her schoolbag and disappeared into her room that I fully realized what she had dragged me into. Damn. Now I was committed to spending even more hours with her than any one wanted to, and it was only the second day of school!

I sank into the nearest armchair, running through the day's events. Stupid insane parallelogram. I should have never let it out, no matter how desperate I was. It was all it's fault that I was now stuck trying to open a red door with a Mudblood.

"Hey, Malfoy." The same Mudblood I had just been cursing poked her head out of her bedroom door, "I can tell you're still freaked out about that strand of hair being zapped, but really, your bed is safe." she closed the door again, and I could've sworn I heard her giggling.

Nonetheless, I slept in the common room that night. Better safe than electrocuted. Or however that saying went.

A/N: HAZZAH! I liked writing that. Anywho, the next chapter will be the first APPARITION ED. LESSON, so see you then!

REVIEW! Please?


	7. The Apparition Ed Lesson

**A/N:** So many excuses, so little time...I'm not even going to bother with trying to explain myself. Here's the chapter.

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 7: The Apparition Ed. Lesson (and Lumpy Fabulousity)**

There are many types of people in this world. Many. Really. So many that every time you think you sorted them all out, you find a whole other batch of people who just don't seem to fit in any category and have to start all over again. The secret to not running into this problem was to not be too specific. If you stayed general with your labeling, then you could get almost everybody into a category.

My categorization of people went something like this:

_Old People_: Useless (such as my grandparents) and Meddlesome (Dumbledore)

_Adults_: Parents (do I really have to explain that one?) and Non-Parents-But-Think-Anyone-Under-the-Age-of-Seventeen-Is-Not-To-Be-Trusted (Fudge)

_Teenagers_: Whiny/Wimpy (Hufflepuffs), Annoying (This is one of the widest categories. They can be anyone, but usually Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.), Egotistical (basically anyone who got too full of themselves, namely Slytherins) and Stupid (Crabbe, Goyle, Weasley)

_Kids:_ Those who know to stay out of my way, and those who don't (the latter usually grow up to either be in the Whiny/Wimpy category, or Stupid)

_Babies_: Loud and Quiet

_Muggles_: They just are. No need to break this down.

And all of these groups, except Muggles of course, could be sorted into a few others: mudbloods, half bloods and purebloods, and then into male and female. With this system, I could have anyone figured out in a few seconds flat. Harry Potter? Half blood, Male Teenager, both Annoying and Egotistical. Narcissa Malfoy? Pureblood, Female, Adult, Parent. J.K. Rowling? Muggle.

It was simple. Oh so simple. But there was a tiny hole in it. A two-person hole, in fact. For, you see, neither I, nor the Mudblood Granger, actually fit into any of my categories.

This wasn't really much of a problem for me. I decided just to make up a new category for myself, considering I was so…well, wonderfully me. Thus, my label (under Teenagers, of course) was Fabulous. Because I am. I've truly never met anyone greater than me, so why shouldn't I deserve such a title?

And then there was Granger. Why don't I just put her under Annoying, you say? Well, while she was annoying, she was also so much more than that. She was so annoying that sometimes the word stopped applying. Sometimes, she began to be something entirely different. Had she been someone whom I did not hate with every fiber of my being, I might have given her her own category, but as if Granger was even worth it. So instead, I gave her the title The Unlabeled Lump.

It was fitting, when you thought about it. She was very Lump-like, with her abnormally large hair and all. Besides, she also had lumps in her personality, such as her know-it-all-ness, prissiness, bossiness and many other - ness words. Thus, imagine my absolute joy when I found out that I didn't have to ride the train with her.

"You mean, we can go sit with our friends?" Granger said excitedly, almost jumping out of her Mudblood skin. It was Saturday, the day of our first Apparition Ed. lesson. We were to be riding the train off-location for practice, seeing as it was impossible to Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds.

McGonagal looked at the two of us strangely, most likely because of how happy we were to get away from each other. "Well, yes. The three of us – Professor Flitwick, Madam Pomfrey and myself – are going to be in the Head Car, so the two of you are going to have to sit somewhere else. We would very much appreciate if it you sat together though…"

We were off before she could even finish her sentence. Like we cared what she appreciated. Granger and I had become more than sick of each other that week. For the past three days we had been researching secret doors, opening spells and torture devices. Well, actually the last one was just a little extra interest of my own because that girl was driving me crazier than I already was. Every second I spent with her went something along the lines of this.

"Shut up, Ferret, if you didn't want to help me you shouldn't have volunteered"

OR

"Do you think this spell would work? It's so fascinating…WAIT! You're doing it all _WRONG_! Let me! See you have to move your wand like _this_, and put the emphasis _here_…". It would be nice to finally take a break from her nagging and wallow peacefully in Crabbe and Goyle's stupidity.

That would explain why when I slid open the door to the train car, I almost had a heart attack at the sight of Pansy.

"Parkinson!" I yelped, my eyes growing wide. "Why are you here?"

She turned her pug-ish nose up at me. "I'm not."

"Yes you are!"

"I was kidding."

"Oh," I responded, sidling in, "You could mention that."

Pansy scoffed and turned to Crabbe. "Look, Vince, I'm going to get out of here before the idiot rubs off on me. I'll see you later. Bye, Greg." She waved at Goyle before hopping out of her seat between them and making a break for the door.

I shut the door after her and stretched out in the seat opposite to Crabbe and Goyle, placing my feet where Parkinson had been sitting only moments before. "What was _she_ doing here?" I sneered. They knew I hadn't been on good terms with Pansy for the past two years, what were doing inviting her right into the carriage?

"We were talking." Crabbe said, sounding uncharacteristically defensive. "She's been sad ever since Daphne started going out with Blaise."

"Zabini?" I asked in surprise. "Sock-Boy Zabini?" Blaise Zabini was one of the few reasons I was glad to be rooming with Granger. Ever since first year, he had been stealing my socks out of the laundry. I constantly had to get new ones because he seemed to get a hold of every pair I had. Even when I confronted Zabini and said that they couldn't be his socks because they had 'DM' stitched into them, he denied it. He was an extremely odd fellow. "I don't know what Pansy's whining about. I'd be glad to get rid of anyone who liked a person that had a fixation with another boy's socks."

Goyle spoke now. "But Draco, it's not just that. Pansy always talks to us."

"Well, I don't want you to. So stop doing it."

"Pansy knew you would say that." Crabbe told me. "She said that oftentimes when boys are rejected they will become hostile and testy."

I swung my legs off the seat, annoyed. The day I allow anyone call me testy will be a sure sign that the world is coming to a sad end. "I'm not hostile. And who's the person that supposedly rejected me lately?"

Both of my supposed friends rolled their eyes and sighed in an incredibly girly manner. "Denial." They chimed, in perfect harmony.

Damn that was creepy. "Don't ever do that again," I ordered. "And-do-not-talk-to-Pansy."

"'_And do not talk to Pansy!'_" Crabbe said back, in a much higher voice than his own.

I felt like someone had ripped out my lungs. "Did you – Did you just - " I gasped for air, pointing my finger at him accusingly. Finally, I found my voice. "_Did you just mimic me!_"

" ' _Did you just mimic me?'_" Goyle repeated.

I must've looked like a fish out of water, but I didn't care. These guys were out of control. I stood up, spluttering.

"Fine! Fine. I'll just…_go_ then!" I bellowed, "I don't have to stay here and let the two of you repeat everything I say back at me. I have plenty of other people to sit with if I want!"

I stormed out of the train car, slamming the door shut behind me.

"Hi, Draco."

I turned my head and saw Blaise Zabini standing the corridor with a lovesick-looking Daphne draped over his arm. His dark eyes were staring fixedly at my socks.

I opened the door and re-entered the car. Okay. Maybe I _didn't_ have other people to sit with.

123123123123123123123123123123

I peered out the window of the train car, trying to block out Crabbe and Goyle's horrendous singing:

" '_Cause everyone knows_

_That loves always grows_

_And with my magic potion, baby,_

_My charms will enchant you!'_"

They croaked out the last few lines of 'Magic Potion', just as the train came to a halt at a dilapidated station at the edge of a large forest. I almost died of happiness. I wouldn't have been able to stand them belting out 10-month-old R&B tunes for much longer.

I rushed off the train, pushing all the sluggish Hufflepuffs out of my way in efforts to get away. "Move it, move it, I need off this thing more than you do!" I snapped at them, tripping Macmillan right into Susan Bones. _Ouch_. That wasn't exactly a light load, not to mention Susan's surname more or less suited her.

"Draco, are we playing matchmaker again?" Crabbe voiced stupidly, watching as Macmillan and Bones fell to the ground in one wimpy heap.

Goyle looked excited. "OOOH! I love that game! Are we going to sing the song first, or do it after we make the matches?"

"Goyle," I muttered through gritted teeth. "You are an imbecile."

"He's right Greg." Crabbe said in a reasonable tone. "You know we always sing the song _after_ the matches." He turned to me. "Can I be Tzeitel this time, Draco? _Please_?"

"I wanna be Tzeitel!" Goyle shouted, stretching to his full height.

"You got to be Tzeitel last time!"

"Nu-uh! I always have to be Chava! Draco was Tzeitel."

"Chava's a good part! I'm stuck with Hodel!"

"Well, if it's such a good part, you be Chava! I'd rather be Hodel anyway!"

"You know what?" I said over the both of them, pushing them away from each other, "Because you guys won't stop arguing, I get to be all three of them!"

With that, I started after the rest of the seventh years, who had begun to follow Flitwick and McGonagal into the woods. Speechless and a rather confused at my decision, Crabbe and Goyle began to walk behind me, occasionally pushing each other into trees.

We walked for about ten minutes, until we came to a large sun-light clearing in what seemed to be the middle of the forest. Flitwick magicked up a podium while McGonagal went around counting us all to make sure we hadn't been left behind in the words. Then, clearing his throat with a mouse-like sound, Flitwick began to speak.

Which is where I promptly stopped paying attention.

Don't get me wrong, I did listen. Sort of. But why should I pay attention to some random short guy just because he happened to be the teacher of the class? I had read many books (yes, I did read) on Apparating and Disapparating, and I knew all about the dangers, how you could only Disapparate from certain areas, and how to you had to be careful where you appeared.

And it wasn't like the process of Apparating was so hard. All you had to do was rise up onto your toes, make a sharp right turn and click your heels as you came down. That was it. Toes, turn, click, down. Well, also you had to have your mind on your destination, confidence and all that blah, but basically that was it. Any idiot could do it (of course, this does not include Weasley, for he was a completely different sort of idiot). Considering I was Fabulous, Apparition would be a snap. Or a pop.

"…now that I've explained to you how Apparate," I heard Flitwick say, "We're going to split up into pairs and try to apply it. Don't feel any pressure about performing perfectly today – we still have quite a while until the mass Apparition test the Ministry is setting up for us in December. And we don't want anyone to get spliched do we?" There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd. "So, everyone pick a partner and - "

"If you don't mind Filus," came a sharp voice out of no where. I felt a bony hand grip around my shoulder. "I'd like to make the first pair of Granger and Malfoy." I was pulled away from Crabbe and Goyle and found myself facing a very sour-looking Granger, by means of no other than McGonagal.

"Ah, yes!" squealed Professor Flitwick, "Our two Heads. Inter-house unity at its finest. You two shall be a lovely example of what we all stand for. Now, everyone else, pair up!"

All around us, the other seventh years began to partner up (mostly with people from their own house, might I add – they had to rub it in, did they?) leaving Granger and I standing in the middle of the clearing, glaring at each other.

"Mudblood." I said stonily.

"Sterileblood." She breezed, then jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at Finnigan. "Halfblood. Glad I was about to help teach you about wizarding heritage, Malfoy. It's been a joy."

I smirked. Not because I had a witty comeback, but because I was in doubt. If only we were in a larger crowd, perhaps I could strangle her without anyone noticing…

"Remember students!" Flitwick lifted his robes so that we could see his dwarf-sized feet. "On your toes, turn sharply to the right and click -" he appeared over on the other side of the field. "…Your heels together as you come down. Mind on your destination people. Mind on your destination! Always be confident when you Apparate!"

"And anyone who tried to leave this field will NOT be graduating, I'll make sure of it!" McGonagal barked at us. "Begin!"

"Okay Granger," I said at once, "We are paired together for this thing, and nothing short of death is going to change that. So since we're stuck with each other we might as well do this the easy way instead of the hard way."

She looked pleasantly surprised at my word, almost smiled. "I agree Malfoy. I - "

"Ah!" I cut in, pointing to her mouth. "The easy way requires you not to talk."

"But - "

"Nope! No shouting either."

She pursed her lips, furious. I simply smirked, then patted her fuzzy, Lump-ish head. "We wouldn't want you to complicate things for your little Mudblood self."

Granger swatted at my hand. "Don't you dare even start Malfoy, or – or…."

"Or…? Let us not threaten each other. It's juvenile. Instead, we shall sit back, relax, and follow my every order. Watch."

I drew my wand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her wiggle a couple inches backwards, but she had nothing to fear; this was a more important matter. Pointing my wand at the ground, I exclaimed "_Sessio_!"

For a moment, a yellow glow hovered in the shape of a beach chair. When it disappeared, I reached down and placed my hand on the seat to make sure it was stable. It was, so I hopped right into it, settling back comfortably against its invisible frame. Ah…so perfect…but I was sort of thirsty…

"Granger," I said half-heartedly, for I knew she would not comply with my request. "Go get me a butterbeer, and be quick about it. I'm parched."

She had been standing there in silent shock the whole time, but I suppose this was too much for her. "Malfoy, I am not your lackey!" Granger fumed, stamping her foot.

"No," I said lazily, then pointed to my left. "They are." My finger was directed towards Crabbe and Goyle, who were practicing their spins. In my opinion, they looked like overgrown ballerinas, except without the girl, or the pretty. It was rather nauseating. "You, on the other hand, are my Teasee/Tauntee/Tormentee. Therefore I have every right to sit here in an invisible beach chair and order you around."

I opened my eyes and saw her face of utter confusion. "What?"

"That's really what I should be asking you." She responded, shaking her head as though _I_ were the one being ridiculous. "I suppose that's why you hang around with them then?" she questioned, her voice becoming a little bit angry. "Because it's a way to guarantee you never have to do any work yourself?"

I stretched like a cat and yawned. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Besides, I might be getting rid of them soon. Lately they've been too loyal to Parkinson, so I've begun to contemplate the idea of replacing them."

"Replacing them?" she echoed, her voice expressionless. "What, you mean fire them, give them a parting gift of a fruit basket and hold auditions for new _friends_?"

I could almost hear the gears in my mind turning. "No…" I replied slowly, "But that is a great idea! Except I can't put 'friends' on the flyers, I'll get a load of simpering girls, perhaps something like cronies/companions sounds better…yes, that's good…" I dug into the pocket of my robes and found some spare parchment. "Granger, you wouldn't happen to have a quill, would you?"

Granger crossed her arms over her chest, her haughty manner returning. "I do, but Malfoy, there's no way I'm giving it to you. We're supposed to be - "

"_Accio quill_!"

A gray quill whizzed out of her pocket into my open palm.

"And some ink, if you will?" I said innocently.

She didn't even try to fight me. The Unlabeled Lump handed me an inkpot without comment, and then proceeded to start twirling around on her toes, her bushy brown hair flying in every direction.

I, on the contrary had some serious work to do. I sat up in my beach chair, opened up the inkpot and began to sketch out a poster. For the next twenty minutes I worked diligently, and when I was done I held up the parchment so I could review my work. The flyer read, in large block letters:

Are you **LARGE**?

Are you **STRONG**?

Can you **FOLLOW ORDERS**?

Do you find yourself wondering

How you could possibly make

Something out of your

**MEANINGLESS EXISTANCE**?

A picture of a bulky, gorilla-ish looking wizard followed and then:

**This is the job for you!**

Two male Slytherins wanted for the positions of cronie/companion. Interest meeting will be held September 15 at Quidditch Pitch at precisely 7:30. List of past jobs and recommendations will be reviewed.

"Perfect." I murmured to myself. This would be sure to attract replacements for Crabbe and Goyle. I would make some more copies, post them around the school and BAM! I'd have new idiots by 8 o'clock on the 15th.

I cleaned up the ink and folded up the flyer after putting a drying charm on it. "Hey Granger, here's your quill and stuff." I held up the items, not bothering to look at her.

She didn't answer.

"Granger?"

I looked up. Around me, people were still practicing Apparition, but the Mudblood was no where to be found. That was strange. She would never just leave me there, she'd be too afraid of getting in trouble. I got up off the beach chair (I could feel the charm wearing away beneath me), a puzzled frown appearing upon my face when I still couldn't place her in the crowd. Where could she have –

_POP!_

Although it may sound idiotic and perhaps even impossible, at that moment Granger exploded onto me. Once second I was craning my neck looking for the damn girl and the next, I'm flat on my back, a suspiciously bushy-haired creature who's coughing her lungs out lying on top of me.

Suddenly, everyone froze. People literally stopped in mid-spin to stare at the scene before them. The only sound heard was of a now wheezing Granger, and the clapping of four ecstatic hands.

"That," Flitwick squealed from about ten feet away, "Was absolutely fantastic Miss Granger! A little shaky on the landing, but other than that, superb!" He practically skipped over and helped the Lump stand. She was beet red in the face, both because of the coughing and her embarrassment at the praise. Since no one was bothering to care about the pretty one, I hoisted myself up off the ground. Unfortunately, that was right when McGonagal came barreling into Granger, knocking me back onto the ground.

The Transfiguration teacher sounded almost tearful as she hugged the living daylights out of her favorite student. Words seemed to fail her.

I was fine to speak however. "Does anyone mind that I'm still down here?" I yelled.

"Of course not, Mr. Malfoy, you can stay there if you like." McGonagal said briskly, realizing that she looked quite awkward squeezing Granger (not that anyone noticed but the two teachers and I – everyone else had already lost interest and went back to their practice). She let go of the girl, but held her at arms length as she said in a solemn voice, "I always knew you were smarter."

"Smarter?" I was up off the ground, trying to dust off the back of my robe without taking it off. I had sworn not to keep talking to those two, but this seemed interesting. "Smarter than what?"

"Why, than you of course."

I was sure I had heard wrong. "Excuse me Professor, but did you just say that Granger is smarter than me?" I voiced in disbelief

"In fact," McGonagal went on, completely ignoring me as she began to dig through her pockets. "I believe I have just won another bet against Severus…ah here it is!" She pulled out a small square of parchment and tapped it with her wand.

Granger's face froze in mid-grin. "Bet?"

McGonagal ignored her too, examining the now enlarged square. It had grown the size of a poster board. At the top it read "_Bets of '96-'97"_ in a curly script and under that were a bunch of different categories. 'Head Boy and Girl', 'First to Fly', 'First Successful Potion', 'What Lovegood Will Try to Put in the Teacher's Lounge Next'…and so on and so forth. Finally I spotted a category titled 'First to Apparate'. Granger's name was written there in scarlet ink, a list of teacher's names and money amounts following. I goggled at the list; how could so many teachers have faith in the Mudblood?

Then I saw my list.

Next to Granger's name, in a tiny, careless handwriting was my own, Draco Malfoy. Two short lines followed. Severus Snape with ten galleons, and Sybil Trelawney betting four sickles. That was it. A greaseball and a mutant dragonfly with a drinking problem. Now a new question had taken form in my mind.

How could so little teachers have faith in me?

It took Flitwick annoyingly high-pitched voice to bring me back to my senses. "Let me see Minerva!" he exclaimed, peering between Granger and I to see the bets. "Yes! He owes me too! Good thing Trelawney had the smarts to only bet _for_ Malfoy and not _against_ Granger like Severus did."

"Um, _HELLO_! We're _right here_!" I shouted, waving my arms wildly.

"…Sybil didn't even knew what she was doing when she wrote down Malfoy, she was probably completely drunk at the time…"

" – no, she was sober. Remember, that was the day she got locked out of the tower."

"Ah, yes, I recall the incident now. I daresay, that woman's madder without alcohol than with…and Severus, well he just doesn't like it that a Gryffindor is beating out the rest of the school, including his pet - "

I couldn't take it. "B-but-but..." I stammered for a moment, "I'm FABULOUS!"

The two teachers and Granger all turned to look at me, falling silent.

"I mean, so I've been told." I added quickly, becoming very interested in straightening my robes. "You know, my all my adoring fans – you don't think I call_ myself_ fabulous, like a title or category or something?" I gave a fake laugh. "That's ridiculous, who does that, I don't do that, no one does that, only crazed people that aren't me do that…"

Awkward.

McGonagal abruptly stuffed the board back into her pocket after re-shrinking it, and she said in the firmest voice she could, "Right then. Now, Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure that since you're partner has managed to progress in Apparition so quickly you've also learned a bit?"

"Oh yes, would the two of you like to demonstrate?" Flitwick squeaked, as if he and McGonagal hadn't just been calling me an inadequate loser.

Granger finally spoke up. "Actually um, Draco here hasn't exactly been practicing…I don't really think he's ready to Apparate just yet, he still needs more time to work - "

"I can answer for myself, thank you!" I snapped, flaring up. How dare she try to make me look worse? So what if I hadn't practiced yet; if she could do it so could I. I'd show those trolls what Purebloods were really capable of. "Professors, we'd love to demonstrate Apparition for the class. I think I'll go first, you know, to dazzle them a bit." Throwing one last look over my shoulder at dumbstruck Granger, I began to stride across the field. "I'll Apparate from over there. You can introduce me."

"Malfoy, no!" I heard Granger yelp after me. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Sorry, can't hear you!" I continued to walk.

I stopped once I reached the woodsy area on the other side of the clearing, and only then did it occur to me that I had no idea how to Apparate.

'_You'll be fine,'_ I reassured myself. _'You're going to have to be, if you want to save any of your dignity.'_

"Students, students!" Flitwick said loudly, "May I have your attention please! As you know, one of our Heads, Miss Hermione Granger, has managed to Apparate today." He paused as quite few of the Whiny/Wimpy and Annoying kids applauded. "Now, the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy – who is also Miss Granger's partner for Apparition – will also be displaying Apparition. Draco?" He waved his hand toward me, and the crowd turned my way.

"STOP!"

Granger stood next to Flitwick, speaking to the class "Draco will not be Apparating today. He hasn't practiced, he can't do it - "

He '_can't do it'_? "OH YEAH?" I retorted. Fine. If she wanted to me to prove it, so be it.

In a fury, I rose to my toes, turned to my right so quickly I was a blur and brought my heels together as they came back in contact with the ground. It was then that I experienced one of the most curious sensations in the universe. I felt as though I was simultaneously being sucked through a straw (a tiny straw too) and getting turned inside out. I tried to shout but I didn't know where my mouth was. I could not locate my hands, my voice, my mind...

And then it was over. I came back to the earth with a _thump_. I simply stayed still for a minute, trying to figure out where I was. For some reason, my midriff was roaring with pain, but I disregarded that for the moment. Opening my eyes, I looked up and saw Granger standing above me.

Wait. Granger? That meant…I had done it. I had Apparated! Like her, I had fallen down upon my landing, but still, I HAD APPARATED!

Then, from the silent audience came a few screams of terror. Granger herself was shrieking, pointing at the spot I had Apparated from with wide, fearful eyes.

I raised my head off the ground to see what she was pointing at, and promptly passed out.

Well, wouldn't you have done the same if you suddenly realized your legs weren't attached to your body?

**A/N:** So things get interesting...finally. After 7 months. I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, but I'm back now, right? Hope you guys liked the _Fiddler on the Roof_ reference (which, by the way, I do not own in any way, shape or form) and stayed tuned for Chapter 8!

And to all the readers and reviewers; I love you all for sticking with me. You guys are the greatest.


	8. The Gryffindors

**A/N:** Haha! Another week, another update! I'm on a roll. If you have not read my other story, Be a Doll, I have recently updated so...hinthint.

To my reviewers:

**Lucifer's Lair, frifri, Kaydotsidot, Speara, cheap soundeffects, Zarroc, Dark Princesses, and Poosche!** Thank you! I love you all very dearly, believe me.

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 8: The Gryffindors (and The Questionable Existence of Malfoy Rules)**

When I was young, my Grandfather Black would tell always tell me "The Story of the Good Little Boy". I know what you're thinking – "Ooooh! That's a classic!". Well, not the way Grandfather Black told it, it wasn't. His story went like this:

"_Once upon a time there was a good little boy. This good little boy had no friends, because he was so good. Nobody wants to be friends with someone who's too good." _He would pause at that point and say, "Remember that always Draco. _Now, having no friends, the good little boy often got bored. Whenever he got bored, the little boy would go and play with his broomstick. He would try many different tricks on his broomstick, and he was a very good flyer. In addition to being good, though, this boy was rather dim and never thought to play Quidditch so that he could stop being such a loser and finally get some friends. And so the rest of the good little boy's days went, without a friend in the world and not even a broken nose to prove that he was an excellent flyer. _THE END."

After this, he would cough loudly into his handkerchief and tell me that the moral of the story was that little boy's who's names started with the letter 'D' would never prosper, even if they are good and can do tricks on a broomstick. I never understood why he told me that pointless story, nor did I understand it at as I sat on the train that afternoon, trying to ignore the searing pain coming from my waist.

Madam Pomfrey gave a final tug on the bandages, pulling a bit tighter than necessary. Obviously she was still bitter about the Seeker Syndrome thing. "Well, there you go. You're lucky you weren't splinched that badly – just a clean cut down the middle." Not splinched that badly? Was she mad?

"Now, for Merlin's sakes, pull down your shirt." She ordered. I complied, throwing her a nasty look. Pomfrey paid me no mind, instead turning her attention to the corner of the compartment, "Miss Granger?"

The Mudblood stepped forward timidly. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey?" I wanted to hit her.

The nurse picked up a small jar from the table I was seated on. "This salve is for Mr. Malfoy's wound. He'll need to apply it in liberal amounts every twelve hours for the next three weeks. Don't worry about using it up; the jar will refill itself as needed."

Granger nodded, scanning the little label on the jar. "All right. But why are you giving it to me?"

"Well, you're going to have to help him. He can't put it on himself, at least not at first."

The color drained from her cheeks. "Oh, but Madam -"

"As Head Girl, it is your duty!" Madam Pomfrey's eyes flashed. "Or would you rather have someone else do the job?"

Granger merely blushed and muttered a hurried apology

The door to the compartment opened. "Is he all patched up Poppy?" It was McGonagal. Flitwick stood behind her, studying the Bets of '97-'98 (**A/N:** **I got in wrong in Chapter Seven, it's supposed to be '97-'98, not '96-'97**) chart. "Are you back to normal Mr. Malfoy?" she asked me, as though she cared.

I smirked, talking in a sickly sweet voice. "Why, yes, _thank you_, Professor McGonagal. I hope that you can get something good with the bet money you won off my failure."

"I know I will!" answered Flitwick happily. "Oooh, Severus is probably going to have to sell one of his vintage cauldrons to pay for this!"

I sighed. What was the point of being sarcastic if nobody noticed? "Can I go now?" I asked Madam Pomfrey with a desperate look.

She nodded. "Yes. You and Miss Granger hurry along now." I hopped down from the table – well, I tried. Upon setting my feet on the ground, I lost my balance and was sent pitching forward. I would have landed on my face had Granger not come out of thin air grabbing my arm. "Oh, right." Pomfrey added, "I almost forgot. He's going to need help walking as well." She righted me. "Just put your arm around him, and support him by the small of the back. Make sure he stands straight, or the wound won't heal properly."

Lump Granger was now looking at me with a nervous sort of fear in her eyes. "Well, go on, Granger, hold me up. I don't want you mucking up my robes, but if it's the only way I can walk…" I huffed. The fear was replaced by fire, and she slid her arm over my waist, poking her nails into my back. I knew this was not by any means accidental. Leaning on the girl as much as she would let me, we hobbled out of the compartment, like some sort of weird two-headed monster.

The train chugged along noiselessly. In the compartments, I could hear snatches of conversation. "Did you see that stupid Malfoy boy…", "I know, why did he Apparate if he didn't know how?", "Did you see him on the ground?". I was completely humiliated. And now I had a big, stupid red welt around my middle to remind me.

"This is all your fault." I said sourly to Granger.

She looked at my in surprise. "_My _fault? What are you talking about? How was your getting splinched _my_ fault? I was the only one sensible enough to try and stop you! I'm sorry that it happened, but you really can't blame me."

Logic! She had me. "Well, if you hadn't Apparted first, then I wouldn't have gone and done it without knowing how." I whined, again sounding like my eleven-year-old self.

"Right, right, of course it's my fault." Granger answered distractedly, "Whatever you say Malfoy." We had stopped walking, and now she was forcing open a compartment door one-handed.

"Where are we?" I questioned, suddenly aware of my surroundings.

She sighed. "We're on a train, Malfoy. I'm trying to open the door to his compartment, but it's a bit difficult with only one hand, so if you could just help me - "

"Hold on." I took a giant step back from the door, dragging her away from it as well. "Who are we going to sit with? It's not going to be a bunch of," I shuddered, "_Gryffindors_, is it?"

"What's wrong with that?"

I threw up the arm that was not resting on Granger's shoulder. "What's right with that! You're crazy if you think I'm going to sit with you lot."

"Malfoy, we have to stick together. How else are you going to move around? Or would you rather I just leave you here?"

Well, I didn't want that. "Fine." I grumbled, giving in. "Just let me get something…CRABBE, GOYLE!"

From a compartment nearly half the length of the train away, I saw two bulky figure emerge, rubbing their eyes. "Draco?" Crabbe yawned sleepily.

"Yes, Crabbe, get over here." I said loudly, trying to wake them up. "You too, Goyle. We have to go sit with some idiot Gryffindors."

Granger kicked me in the shin. "We're not idiots." She whispered sharply. "And didn't you say you were going to 'replace' Crabbe and Goyle?"

"I am," I whispered back, "But the auditions aren't until next week. I need to hang around with _somebody_ until then."

She sighed, and we waited until Crabbe and Goyle had walked over. Crabbe looked at the two of us for a long while before turning to Granger. "Why are you and Draco holding each other? Are you sad? My mommy said that when you're sad you should hold someone and you'll feel better." He opened his arms wide, as if he were going to hug us. "Should I hold you guys too?"

Before I was able to give him a good hard smack on the side of the head, another voice interrupted us. "Hermione?"

Potter stood at the entrance of the compartment, giving us all a puzzled glance. "Is there some sort of meeting here?" he asked sarcastically, noticing us Slytherins. "_ 'Death Eaters Anonymous'_?"

Granger gave him a warning look. "Harry. Malfoy has to sit with me so that his wound heals properly, and he didn't want to come alone. Crabbe and Goyle are here to keep him company. We were just about to go and sit down." As we walked past Scar-Boy, I could've sworn I heard her mutter. "And you and Ron better behave yourselves."

Weasley was inside the compartment, a Quidditch magazine lying on the seat beside him. "They can't sit over here, Hermione." He snapped. "Harry and I are doing something."

"Didn't need to know that, Weasel." I said scathingly.

He flushed red. "Shut it, Ferret Face."

"Hey, don't call Draco names! He's already sad, don't you see them holding each other?"

"Hey, I'll call him what I want, troll - "

"Crabbe is not a troll! That was just his Halloween costume in 2nd year!"

"I'LL BRING OUT MY WAND IF YOU ALL DON'T STOP IT RIGHT NOW." Granger shouted.

That brought and end to the argument. We all quieted down instantly. After a little organizing by Granger, we had settled in the compartment. Granger and I were seated in the corner next to each other, Potter and Weasley sat next to her and Crabbe and Goyle were opposite to us. Promptly after receiving their seats however, both of my cronies fell asleep. I guessed that all that talking had tired them out. Usually everything except eating did that to them.

So now I was virtually alone with the Gryffindors.

"How long are you stuck with him?" Weasley asked the Lump. I knew he was referring to me, but I decided to be annoying as it was somewhat entertaining on my part.

"Actually, only until the end of seventh year. Then she never has to see Potter again!" I answered happily. "Isn't that great?"

Weasley flipped me off, and went back to looking at the magazine with Potter, who I could see was trying to hide a grin. Eww. He thought that was _funny_. I had to be sure to keep my comments purely insulting. I wasn't there to entertain a load of losers, after all.

"So, Potter," I started conversationally. "Were you born that ugly, or did you just have that many spells backfire on you in your lifetime?"

Potter opened his mouth to fight back, but Granger slapped me on my wound and I yelped. "Ignore him, Harry. He's in a particularly bad mood at the moment. I suppose getting cut in half does that to a person." She raised her eyebrows at me, annoyed.

"Alright then, if I can't insult you all, what do you expect me to do?" I moaned. "You're all so boring. What do you lot do, just sit here being _Gryffindor_?"

"You know, Malfoy, Gryffindors are people too - "

"Hardly." I responded, "Centaurs are better company, and most people fall asleep while they go on philosophical rants…"

Potter leapt up from his seat, not able to take it anymore. "I think I'll go buy something off the cart. Ron?"

"Sure." Weasley looked dizzy with relief, "Coming Hermione?"

She shook her head. "I can't. It'll take forever, with_ this_ one," she nodded at me. "Just get some Pumpkin Pasties for me."

I had a sudden inspiration. All the food in my stomach had sort of vanished when I had been spliched, and I was ravenous. "Oooh, and Potter, get me some peppermints. The biggest bag they have."

"Yeah right, Malfoy. Like I'm going to buy something for you."

Granger gave him a Look. He sighed. "Okay, okay. Give me the money though, will you?"

Granger extracted a couple of Sickles from my pocket and handed them to Potter. "Should I wake them up?" he asked me, motioning to Crabbe and Goyle.

"No," I answered coolly. "It'll be funnier to watch them at dinner now."

The three Gryffindors gave me a strange stare. "What?" I asked.

Potter just blinked, and he and the Weasel left the compartment.

I settled back into my seat. Now finally, there was that stupid tension gone from the air. Granger wasn't so outward about hating me, so I was basically free to sink into the peaceful sleepiness of Crabbe and Goyle snores.

Oh how wrong I was.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?" I muttered. Crabbe suddenly gave a huge snort and seemed to open his eyes for a bit…but alas, he stayed asleep. Damn. Now here I was alone with Granger, and she had just said my name very nicely. That could not be good.

"You know, I noticed you were having a bit of trouble Apparating..."

"Really Granger?" I said extremely sarcastically. "I didn't think I was having any trouble at all, oh, except for the fact THAT I WAS SPLINCHED!" I shouted at her. "BUT OF COURSE THAT'S PERFECTLY NORMAL, NOW ISN'T IT?"

She didn't falter in the least. "Yell all you want Malfoy. I already told you, I'm sorry that it happened, although I could understand why you felt you had to prove yourself. Especially after the bet thing." Sorry? If she was sorry, then I was a Mudblood. "But I wanted to ask you if you would like my help."

"Help?" I echoed thickly.

"Yes, help. We could probably get permission to go off site on Sunday's so that I could train you for Apparation Education, and I also get practice in the process, so we both would get something out of it. That way we don't have anymore…" she fumbled with her words for a moment. "_Incidents_. Besides, we're Head Girl and Boy, so I don't think Dumbledore would protest." She paused. "What do you say?"

I didn't think I could really say anything. I couldn't even hear myself think. My heart was pounding too loudly. Suddenly I felt so vulnerable, so scared, so intimidated, so nervous, so…struck. It was like her words had caused me to remember how very much I feared her.

How was I to answer that question? I needed help with Apparation and badly, but there was something stopping me. Something that started with an 'M' and ended with a 'y' and had the letters _a_, _l_, _f_, and _o_ in between. Why did these things have to be come so difficult because of those six letters that would follow me around for the rest of my life?

"Well Granger, you can't exactly do that. Help me I mean." I finally said with difficulty, pretending I didn't see the shocked look on her face. I turned my head away from her, as if I had suddenly become extremely interested in the musty corner of the car. "As much as I need it, you cannot be the giver of that help."

I could feel her angry breath on the back of my neck. "And _why_," she demanded through gritted teeth, "Is that?"

I wanted to run out of there, but that would probably reopen the wound, and being cut in two hurt quite a lot. I silently prayed for Crabbe and Goyle to wake up, or for Potty and the Weasel to suddenly burst in, though without avail. In attempt to get away I scooted towards the wall, ignoring the pain dart that began shooting up and down my sides. I ended up half-smooshed into it. Not that it helped. She scooted right along with me, until she was almost in my lap. _'Well.'_ I thought, _'So much for that.'_ Life, that is.

"_Why can't I help you?"_ she asked me again, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Youcan'thelpmebecauseyou'reaMudbloodandthat'sagainstMalfoyRules."

Granger's tone rose up to a shrill screech. "WHAT? I can't help you because I'm a MUDBLOOD? What does being Muggle-Born have to do with _anything_? Why are those things so important to you?"

"I just told you, it's a Malfoy Rule." I shot back, becoming irritated.

It was quiet for a while, until she decided to speak up again. "I have just one question to ask you."

"You've asked about thirty-nine since we left the common room this morning. I think that should be your daily limit."

Ignoring me, she went on. "What exactly are these 'Malfoy Rules'?"

A terrible shock pulsed through me as her words unraveled before me once more. Could it be possible? Could what have driven me the past 17 years of my life be… non-existent? True, Father had always told me about the dangers of mixing with those who were not our kind, but never had he straight out told me a list of things I could and couldn't do. Mother hadn't either. So now I found myself wondering: where had I gotten that idea? Because as much as it pained me to admit it, there were no such thing as Malfoy Rules.

By its own will my entire body turned towards her in one swift movement. It was then I realized how close she had gotten. My face was a mere centimeter from hers, our noses close to touching. I knew I had to say something soon, because it was just becoming plain awkward, not to mention there was a rather large portion of my brain urging me to – well let's just say it was urging me to make contact with a certain part of her face, and I'm not talking about eye contact.

"You know what? You really have a way of taking a man's world and then just _twisting_ it between your diabolical little hands." I said right into her face.

The comment made her draw back a considerable amount. "What?" She was leaning so far back from me now I thought she was going to fall out of the seat. It would've been cool if she had too, but sadly the Lump kept her balance.

"You heard me. Diabolical. Little. Hands."

"Excuse me, I have neither diabolical nor little hands, thank you very much." She said in a fiery voice, though not without taking a glace at them. She seemed rather offended.

"Yes you do." I argued, struggling to keep a serious look on my face. I hadn't meant for my statement to sound so funny, but it had sort of come out that way. My idiotic choice of words would certainly be my downfall. "Alright, well perhaps diabolical is too strong a word, but they sure are _little_."

"Are not."

Suddenly, I grabbed her hand off the seat, clasping my own around it. "Yes they are. Look." I told her, holding her wrist as I held up our hands to each other, displaying their sizes. She flinched, but didn't move it away. I wish she had, or that I had thought to do so. It would have saved the both of us a load of trouble. Because at that moment, the door slide open.

There stood Potter and Weasley, staring at the two of us, dumbstruck. For a moment the four of us simply looked at one another, as though trying to figure out when exactly we had all begun to exist. Then –

"LET GO OF HER!" shouted Weasley unnecessarily, as the two of us had already dropped our hands. Granger even forgot her order to support my back; she folded both her arms across her chest, perhaps to prove that she had not been touching me in any way.

Potter stepped forward, shaking in anger. His wand was drawn. "What's going on?" he said stonily, "What were the two of you doing?". When neither of us answered, he rounded on Granger. "Was he hurting you?"

At this, Granger snapped back to life. She resumed her position from before, sliding her hand onto the small of my back. "It's nothing, Harry. Malfoy just found the need to compare our hand sizes. He wouldn't shut up about it, so I just decided to do it, in the end." She gestured to the empty seats of the compartment. "Ronald, go sit down, you're going to drop all that food. Harry, pass me a pasty, would you? I'm starving."

My surprise could not be conveyed in words. Glaring at me, Potter and The Weasel crossed the compartment and slumped into their seats, but go they did. Just like that. _'Exactly what kind of power did she have over those two?'_ I wondered.

However, I was hungry too, so I put my thoughts aside for a minute.

"Hey Potter, did you get my peppermints?" He ignored me, sticking an entire Chocolate Frog into his mouth. Giving me the Silent Treatment, eh? We would see about that. "POTTER! Did you get the peppermints?" I asked again, raising my voice slightly. This time he passed Granger a Pumpkin Pasty, which she began to eat one-handed. Weasley gave me a rude hand signal and continued on his box of Every-Flavored Beans.

"Potter, I want my peppermints!" I yelled. Granger pressed me in the back and shook her head quickly. I stuck my tongue out at her and continued. "Potter, you thief, give me my peppermints. I paid for those, either you give me the money or you give me my mints."

Weasley was the one who finally spoke. "Shut it, Ferret. Can't you see we're trying to ignore you?"

"Well, considering you're _talking to me_ and you lot are all trying to kill me with a Group-Death-Glare, you aren't doing a very good job." I said reasonably. "But it you want to ignore me, fine. Someone just hand over the peppermints already."

My mouth had once again betrayed me. I had given them ideas. Now the three were set on not acknowledging my existence for the rest of the train ride. Then again, it's not like they could've gotten rid of me that easily…

I wriggled my arm free from my side. As slowly and as exaggeratedly as I could manage, I lowered my arm until it was lying comfortably around Granger's shoulders. I felt her stiffen at my touch, and her eyes grew wide with shock, but she said not a word. Neither did Potter or Weasley, although I could clearly see the red-head's face begin to match his hair.

"Blargyflargy." I said brightly, petting Granger on the head like the Lump she is. "Doobydeedleda. Tallimolemojack." I tugged on her unruly curls. "Aggyuggyquizaip. Wap-ba-bu-lu-bop-a-whap-bam-boom!"

NOTHING.

"You people are ridiculous." I whined, letting go of Granger all together. "No matter. For now I shall break out my secret weapon…" I paused for dramatic effect. "POTTER! POTTER! POTTERPOTTERPOTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTERPOTTERPOTTER!"

They all started to twitch. Even Crabbe and Goyle grunted restlessly in their sleep. Perfect.

"**POTTER! POTTER! POTTERPOTTERPOTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTERPOTTERPOTTER! POTTER! POTTER! POTTERPOTTERPOT** - "

"Oh, for Heaven's sakes!" Granger squealed, shooting right up from her seat. "Just give them to him, Harry, I can't take another second!"

Potter sighed, but nodded nonetheless. He reached deep into the pile of sweets and pulled out a bag, throwing it in my direction. But something was wrong. The bag landed in my lap the same moment my brain registered exactly what.

They were spearmints.

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"I'm not having this conversation Malfoy, I already told you…!"

I rolled my eyes, a noise of frustration escaping my throat. "Granger, you're overreacting – "

She snorted. "Oh that's rich, _you_ talking about _ov-er-re-ac-ting_."

"Hey, I did not overreact!"

"Malfoy," she stopped dead in her tracks, and I had no choice but to stop with her, as she was the only thing holding me up. She sounded utterly disbelieving. "You _punched_ him. In the _face_. Over a bag of peppermints!"

"No, see, that's the problem. They weren't peppermints! They were spearmints! It's not my fault Stupid Potter couldn't even get that right."

"So you punch him? Is that anyway to fix things?"

"That's a great way to fix things." I grumbled stubbornly.

"You broke his nose!"

My answer was defensive. "Only a little."

Her face contorted in anger. "You – ugh!" She started to walk again, going so fast that she was almost dragging me along. I did not waste my breath trying to talk to her anymore.

We reached the common room, and Granger said the password sharply, pulling me inside the doorway without much care at all. Her silence did not last much longer.

"Here," she growled, purposely pressing the small jar into my wound, "Is your salve. I suggest you try to put it on yourself, because_ I'm_ definitely not going to help you." Granger marched off towards the exit, and just before she left said. "By the way, I'm going to go ask Dumbledore about those extra Apparition lessons I'll be giving you. If things go the way I plan, we'll start tomorrow. If they don't, we'll start tomorrow anyway. Goodbye."

A combination of confusion and pain that made me realize that I had been standing unsupported this whole time, and it was the same force that made my knees buckle and give way. I found myself on the ground for the fourth time that day, clutching the small jar as finally realized how right Grandfather Black had been. Little boys who's names started with 'D' would never prosper.

A voice from across the room chuckled. "Feisty one, isn't she?"

**A/N:** Who is the voice? Review and you'll find out soon enough!


	9. The Four Founders

**A/N:** Sorry about the slow updates...you'd think with summer here I'd be able to get 'em out everyday, but not with the kind of summer I've got; anyway, I personally love this chapter, and hope you do as well. It clears a few things up, and lets you on one of the growing plot points.

Thanks to all my fabulous reviewers! And now to the chapter!

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 9: The Four Founders (and Hot Pink Fury)**

It is a little known fact that there is a difference between 'letting things go' and 'forgiving people'. 'Letting things go' is when you simply drop whatever it is that you are angry about. You don't bother to fight or talk it out, or go to counseling about it or any of that bothersome stuff – you just, well_, let it go_.

Forgiving people is the tricky thing. To forgive someone, you have to actually completely be at peace with that other person. You have to do utterly time-consuming things like "find out how you feel" and "understand the problem". It takes a while, and most of the time, even if you think you have forgiven someone, you really haven't.

That's why I never forgave people. Well, sometimes I did, but usually I just let things go. Call me insane, but that's what really sets me at ease. When you let things go, you put them out of your head for the moment, but you are allowed to bring the whatever-it-is up in arguments, or be angry and resentful about it if you're feeling particularly moody.

People say that everyone needs to be forgiven, but really all most need is for the bad things they do to be let go. I knew I was one of them. I wasn't asking for anyone's forgiveness, as I realized that this might not ever happen, or be too difficult, considering the things I (and those before me) had done. I was merely asking to be excused for the moment, regardless of whether they were able to become at total peace with me.

Because when you declare yourself neutral in a dangerous war, it is not a decision that is made or should be taken lightly. It doesn't necessarily mean that you can be trusted, but it does mean that you are no longer an enemy. It doesn't mean an invitation for friendship, but it is a call for respect. It does mean that you should be at least treated like a fellow human being, even an unlikable one.

Potter, the Gryffindors, and nearly the entirely wizarding world did not understand this. They may have had a wide range of knowledge in potions and spells, the entire universe may have been at their feet intelligently speaking – and yet they still could not grasp the simple point that sometimes all a person needed was a pardon, and some reassurance that they had indeed made the right choice.

Granger specifically had a problem with this sort of situation. She was so intent on being "ready" before she forgave people that she never knew how to just let things go, not just bad experiences, but also her stupid ideas.

I was awoken the morning after the first Apparition Ed. Lesson by one of my pillows beating down repeatedly over my head, and a shrill voice demanding that I wake up this instant. Well, that, and the horrible pain coming from my wound. I had not exactly been successful in applying the salve by myself the night before, and I knew I was due to put some more on that morning. At the moment though, all I could think about was going back to sleep.

"Leave me – OW! – alone," I moaned, pulling the blanket up over my head. "Can't you see I'm dying? I want to rot in peace."

"Oh Malfoy, you're not dying." Granger scowled, continuing to bring the pillow down on my limp frame as she strolled over to the bed. I found it strange that she was fully dressed so early in the morning, but did not comment. "Stop being so dramatic. Now get up, we have to go soon."

I looked over my covers at her. "Go? Where are we going to go on a Sunday?"

She sighed. "Do you _ever_ listen to me?"

"Honestly?"

"Never mind. Look, I told you, yesterday I went to go see Dumbledore and he approved the extra Apparition practices. Every Sunday the two of us will go to the mountains past Hogsmeade with some sort of escort, and this week it's Filch, so we have to be at the front gates by 8:30 or else. It's 8 o'clock now, so hurry up and get dressed."

I sat up in my bed, scowling. "Look, Granger, I already told you, you're not helping me. Just forget stupid Apparition -"

"Bring some money too, we might have to have lunch in the village!" she called, shutting the door after herself.

I sighed as well. I supposed there was no way out of this now. I pulled myself out of bed and went into the painful process of getting dressed. I had almost buttoned my shirt when I remembered: my salve. Maybe now she would help me. Grabbing the little jar off my bedside table, I went out into the common room. Granger was sitting on the couch, facing the portrait hole.

"Mud – I mean, Granger, will you come and help me put this salve stuff on?" I asked as nicely as my drawl would allow. "I was supposed to do this a few hours ago."

She got up from the couch, beginning to turn around. "Sure – AH!" Granger let out a horrible shriek. "I've gone blind!"

I rolled my eyes. "Merlin, you're such a baby, I know the wound doesn't look very nice but c'mon."

"No, really!" She was stumbling towards me with an oddly blank look. "It must be one of the Founder's tricks! Put your shirt back on and help me!"

Skipping her first order, I reached my arm out to stop her from bumping around anymore. But at the same moment I touched her shoulder, she jerked in the opposite direction and her robe was pulled down, revealing the tiniest bit of skin…

Instantly, my world went dark, and I felt my hands meld together and tangle. I screamed more loudly than Granger did, and it startled her. "Malfoy, what happened, where are you?" I felt her grab my open shirt in confusion, and her fingertips just barely brushed my bare chest.

"No, don't - !" I warned, but it was too late. She let out another yelp and I knew that her hands had met the same fate as my own. Jumping from the shock, Granger tripped and pitched forward, and we both fell, down, down, down….

The two of us landed, an interwoven tangle of hair, clothes, and bodies, with my head clunking against the salve soundly.

"_Ow_."

We lay there without speaking, blinded and with our hands still knotted into place, for a moment. A while. Then a minute. Five. Ten.

In more than a half an hour's length of silence, Granger finally cleared her throat and spoke. "Malfoy?" Her voice came from somewhere around my collarbone, which would explain why I had her hair in my mouth. "It's past 8:30."

"Granger," I said, trying to keep my temper from getting the best of me. "Do you think that matters right now? Does it really?"

She quieted.

After a while longer, I spat some of Granger's hair out of my mouth and asked, "How long will we be like this?"

"I don't know. All the books I've read on this never said how long the spells last. We could be here a few more minutes or maybe hours…weeks…"

"WEEKS?"

"It's just a possibility!" she squealed, "Besides, do you think I _want_ to be lying on top of you before nine in the morning on a Sunday?"

"Granger, out of context that sounds positively dirty. You're giving the readers the wrong idea."

She ignored me, squirming. "You know, it's getting hot in here."

"See, there you go again -"

"Malfoy," the Lump seethed, "Get your mind out of the gutter and pay attention. Are you telling me that it doesn't feel unseasonably warm at the present moment?"

Grudgingly, I shut up. And I felt it. It suddenly was like mid-July in the room. The air was humid and sticky, and our black robes were making it all the worse. Why was it so hot?

"Maybe we should just calm down. That might help." I suggested.

We lapsed into silence, not wanting to make things even warmer by fighting.

A few minutes later, Granger let out a small moan. "Malfoy, it's really hot, I don't think I can take this."

"I know," I panted back, wanting desperately to wipe the sweat from my face, "Okay, let's try and get off of each other…it may be our combined body heat or something…"

After a lot of squirming, wiggling, and shouting, we realized that it would be impossible to untangle ourselves while we were still without the use of our hands or without being able to see. We would simply have to remain in this state until the spells wore off. We would also have to deal with the mounting temperature until then, although it seemed we would probably melt before we got up.

"So this is how it ends," I said sadly, more to myself than Granger, "The Glorious Life and Times of Draco L. Malfoy finish with him withering away on the floor with a bitchy Mudblood. What a way to go. The sorrow, it fills me, the agony, 'tis drowning my very being…WHAT A WORLD…" I cried.

"Oh, do shut up," snapped a female voice that was most certainly not Granger's. "Must you make a scene out of everything? I heard you going on earlier this morning about how you were going to die as well, and you're still here, aren't you? Unfortunately." The voice added. Although it was a woman's voice, it was deep and melodious, with a sort of Olde English accent to it. Just like the one from yesterday…

"Granger, did you hear that?" I was flopping around wildly now, searching for the source of the voice, "Where is it coming from?"

"Malfoy, what are you talking about? Is this part of your 'Life and Times of Draco L. Malfoy' speech?" she said disapprovingly.

"No, no, stupid, the voice!" I shouted, continuing to kick her in efforts to find it. "Where - ?"

"He still hasn't figured us out!" The voice from yesterday was back as well! This one was a man's, and quite rough. "Don't torment the child."

The woman's voice was bristling, "Well, all day long he torments that lovely young lady, so I really don't see why _I_ can't have a go at him."

"GRANGER, ARE YOU DEAF?" I bellowed. "You don't hear it?"

Her voice rose as well. "Listen, Malfoy, the only thing I hear is you shouting incoherently about some voices – and you know, I really can't take this heat any more!" Granger's tone switched to a whine. "What's going on?"

And before I could retort, an icy blast hit us both in the chest and we were put out of our misery.

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"Well, this is interesting."

I opened my eyes and saw black, but did not get scared, as I remembered about the Four Damned Founders and their stupid spells. "Granger?" I croaked uncertainly. "Random-Voices-From-Nowhere?"

"While those are both good guesses, I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer. Try again. I'm sure this could prove to be a fun game." A weathered voice said cheerfully.

I gulped. Oh _shit_. Dumbledore!

I heard a little moan, and then Granger said, "Malfoy? What's going on?"

The Headmaster chortled. "We're playing a guessing game, Miss Granger. Would you like to join in?"

"Professor Dumbledore!" she squawked, desperately trying to untangle herself from me. I was getting whipped violently in the face with her stupid hair. "This isn't what it looks like!"

"Oh, that's strange. I thought it looked like the two of you have had your first experiences with the Four Founder's Protection Spells. If that were the case, I would be glad to help you, but if this isn't what it looks like…"

"No, no, that's not what she means!" I shouted, alarmed at the sound of his fading footsteps. I paused. "Well, I'm not exactly sure what she means…but whatever it is, YES YES, we need help!"

"I've never known you to be so expressive, Mr. Malfoy. Have you considered going into acting?" I could just see him grinning like an idiot in my mind's eye. How I wanted to give that old man what he deserved. "But I suppose to fully understand this situation I should return the two of you to normal."

I assumed he had drawn his wand, for right after he muttered a short incantation, the room materialized back into view, and I felt my hands untangle. It was the same for Granger. With very sore muscles, I proceeded to throw the Mudblood off of me as fast as I could,for I saw at once that we were not in a very innocent-looking position. My wound roared with pain, but I ignored it for the time being; I was just glad to finally be off the floor.

Granger sat on the arm of the couch, massaging her neck. "Professor, how long have we been here?" she asked.

"It's nearly 8:30 now." Dumbledore answered.

My jaw dropped. "Eight-thirty! But why didn't you come to fetch us earlier? Are you saying no one noticed we were gone?" I knew I was being rude, but I couldn't stop myself.

"Of course we noticed you were gone. But the spells – at least, if there are so many spells triggered at once, as was the case - will not allow us to access you until at least twelve hours after they are set. It's supposed to let the message sink in."

'_Oh, it sunk in alright.'_ I said to myself. _'I'll be feeling this for days.'_

"Now," Dumbledore continued calmly, "Would you like to explain why the spells were triggered in the first place?"

I let Granger handle it. By the time she was done, the Headmaster was nodding vigorously, quite sympathetic. "Ah, I see. No harm done then, I suppose." He made his way toward the door. Just as he was about to walk out, he looked back at us. "By the way," His eyes twinkled. "The two of you might not want to leave these rooms for the rest of the day. I hear that Mr. Potter and the Weasley's are on the lookout for you, Draco. And there are some Slytherin's waiting in the library, Hermione."

He left. Useless old man.

"See, that's why I don't listen to you." I said immediately. "Look where it got us. An entire day wasted, all tangled up on the common room floor. And now your bodyguards are after me."

Granger whirled around, but her gaze was directed almost a foot to my right. "Malfoy, this was not my fault! I had completely forgotten about the spells, it's not as if I purposely planned all that." We stood in silence for a moment.

"Granger?"

"What?" she said heatedly.

"You accidentally looked at my bare chest again, didn't you?"

She seemed to deflate, her anger evaporating. "Yes."

I sighed, turned her around, and placed my hands on her shoulders, steering her out the door. "Professor Dumbledore…"

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I sat in the common room the next day, magically copying my ad for new cronies. Granger had deposited me on the couch after classes (I still was unable to properly walk on my own) with the order to stay there until she returned from the library. I had no objections. The flyers were coming out great, and I only had ten more to make when I heard it.

A voice.

_Again._

"He looks alright to me." A high-pitched, jolly sounding female was commenting, "Poor lamb, he was just splinched a few days ago – perhaps that would explain his foul mood."

I shot up from the couch, my wand held shakily in front of me.

"Hello? Who's there!" I demanded, my voice breaking.

"Oh look, now you've gone and made him all _squeaky_." The woman's voice from yesterday, the deeper one, scoffed. "And Lion Heart tells me _I'm_ torturing him."

"She's only trying to help," The gruff male voice said, "You, on the other hand, are just trying to be disagreeable. I'd say you have a bit of snake in you."

Another male voice, this one thin and raspy, snickered. "There's nothing wrong with that, nothing at all."

"STOP IT!" I shouted. "Reveal yourselves! I will not hesitate to defend myself should you prove to have unkind intentions!" When I got so poetic, I didn't know, but I felt better knowing that I was able to spin fancy words under such pressure.

There was silence for a moment. I fell back onto the couch, the pain from my wound becoming too much to bear. "You know, just because I'm sitting doesn't mean I'm any less dangerous! I am prepared to fight at any given moment." I held my wand out with one hand and rubbed my welt with the other.

"Don't be daft, you won't be attacking anyone in that condition." The dulcet-toned woman said exasperatedly, "Serpent Tongue, knock some sense into your precious Head Boy, will you?"

It was then that it hit me: Serpent Tongue? Lion Heart? The Olde English accents? The fact that I only heard theses voices in the common room? It could only mean one thing…

I turned slowly to face the fireplace, directing my gaze slightly upward. And there, in all of its hot pink glory was the Four Founder's portrait. Though you could not see much past the brightly colored glow, I was able to spot four little figures standing in front of Hogwarts castle looking out at me. One of the women waved.

My jaw dropped open. So that _was_ where the voices had been coming from! And here I thought I had gone crazier.

"You're a portrait!" I exclaimed, still in a state of shock.

"See, I knew he would figure it out." The raspy voice said proudly. Seeing as it was coming from a green-and-silver-clad man, I guessed he could only be…_Salazar Slytherin_? This was amazing. Despite myself, I was excited (and, as I explained earlier, that is extremely rare). I went to go sit in the armchair next to the fire to get a closer look.

He was indeed my House founder. A man as thin as his voice, he towered above the rest. His limbs and features were all very long, but he was very good-looking in a mysterious way. His shining black hair (also long) was worn in a ponytail tied with a green ribbon that matched his eyes exactly. Everything about his attire screamed Slytherin, from the colors of his clothes to the snake fastenings on his cloak.

Next I set eyes on a short woman, her golden hair set in a messy bun. She had been the one who waved at me and now I saw why; she was incredibly friendly. You could tell simply by her appearance. Her face was round and caring, and she seemed to have developed wrinkles around her mouth from smiling so much. It was obviously Helga Hufflepuff, so that meant that the second man was –

"Godric Gryffindor." A rough looking man in red and gold said, bowing. He was the only one who bothered to introduce himself to me so far. Gryffindor was, as far as I could tell, of average height, but also uncommonly muscular. His auburn hair was shaggy, and he had a short mustache-beard combination.

And the last woman. Well, I knew who she was right away, and not just because of the fact that every other Founder had already been accounted for. You see, many times had I heard of Rowena Ravenclaw's famous beauty, but none of that had prepared me for what I saw.

She was undoubtedly the most gorgeous creature I had ever laid eyes upon, with her delicate features, flowing black hair, flawless skin and piercing blue eyes. But there was something else about her as well, something I couldn't place. It was in her spirit, and I could sense it although I was merely in the presence of her memory. Like a recklessness, a strength…a strength in intelligence, maybe? It also seemed vaguely familiar, but I was unable to place as well.

"Are you going to stare at me all day? I know I'm beautiful, but really." Ravenclaw snapped, going over to stand behind Slytherin.

My awe of her was shattered, and I sneered. _'What a witch.'_

"I suppose I should have explained myself on Saturday." Gryffindor said to me, "We didn't actually mean for you to hear me. It's just that, well, that hasn't -" He stopped suddenly, as Hufflepuff had cleared her throat in a way that obviously meant to shut him up. "In any case, I'd like to offer my sincerest apologies. Do you except, Master Malfoy?" He brought himself down on one knee, his head bowed.

I rolled me eyes. It was no wonder those Gryffindors were so dramatic, they had_ this_ guy for a Founder. "Yes, yes, I accept." I answered hurriedly, although really I had decided to let it go. I had Granger questioning me all day about the voices because of that idiot, and anyone that made her talk more could never be completely forgiven.

Ravenclaw peered over Slytherin's shoulder. "What are you apologizing to him for, Godric? He should be doing that for us!"

"Now Rowena," Hufflepuff said soothingly, "There's no need to get all riled up. I'm sure Draco simply forgot."

"Forgot?" I echoed. "Forgot what?"

Slytherin sighed. "Eagle Eye here is holding a grudge against you because of that spell you put on the portrait. We've been glowing for nearly a week now, and for some reason it's getting to her." He gave a dry laugh, "Not to mention we've started joking about how she's got 'hot pink fury'."

"Shut up Salazar, I'm not holding a grudge." Sniffed Ravenclaw, turning away from the man with a _humph_. "I just don't like his look. His eyes are too far apart. That's a sign of a dishonest man."

I measured the space between my eyes with my fingers. Were they really too far apart?

Hufflepuff gazed at me meaningfully. "Anyway, Draco, do you think it would be possible to take the spell off? I heard you telling that girl – Hermione, was it? – that only the caster can perform the countercharm."

"Of course," I drew my wand, but stopped in mid-wave. "Hold on…what was it again? I think I've forgotten…"

"Forgotten!" screeched Ravenclaw, stomping back into view. She was the picture of rage. "How could you have_ forgotten_ the spell! We've been stuck like this, all glowy and pink and when we finally come to you for help you say you've _FORGOTTEN_? Why, if I could go out there I'd tear you limb from limb and -" Her voice faded, as she noticed her fellow Founders and I had all dissolved into laugher. "What's going on?"

"Hot pink fury, that's what." Hooted Gryffindor, holding his stomach as he laughed, "Oh, you should've seen your face Rowena, you were hopping mad!"

"'_Forgotten the spell?'_" mimicked Slytherin in imitation of Ravenclaw's melodious voice, "'_I'll tear you limb from limb!_'"

Even Hufflepuff, who was supposed to be very good friends with Ravenclaw, was laughing heartily at my joke. The fair lady gaped at me for a moment, trying to get out an insult, but in the end, she just threw her hands in the air and stormed away, muttering to herself.

I performed the countercharm immediately afterward, just in time to hear the door to the common room open. "Malfoy?" Granger said, shuffling her stack of books in her arms. "What are you doing? Didn't I tell you to stay on the couch until I got back?"

I looked back at the portrait. All of the Founders were again present in it, surrounding Hogwarts Castle. Had I imagined all of that?

Granger had set her books on the couch, coming over to me. "Have you changed the pictures back?" she asked incredulously. Upon seeing that I had, I knew that my conversation with the Four Founders had been no dream. "What persuaded you to do that?"

The answer popped out of my mouth before I could stop it. "Hot pink fury." I said.

For some strange reason, she accepted my answer. "Whatever you say Malfoy," she hummed, walking over to her books. "Whatever you say."

Apparently she was better at letting things go than I thought.

A/N: Next chapter...HERMIONE'S POV! Hazzah! Haven't had a chap like that in a while, have we now? Hope you review, and happy reading.


	10. The Slytherins

**A/N: **This chapter is what you would call "odd". It's from Hermione's POV, so it's already a bit different from most of this story, but this chap is particularly strange. Still, I had a fantastic time writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much.

This chapter was brought to you by the motivation of having reviewers, who are: **DawnaMalfoy, Zarroc, Kaydotsidot, Lucifer's Lair, Karana Belle and Dawnella**! You guys are wubbulous, remember that. So now, for the chapter:

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 10: The Slytherins (and Random Malfoy Facts)**

In general, I liked knowing things. Even, tiny, insignificant, completely useless little details that could never in your life come in handy – I thrived off that. It wasn't really that I thought those things might be needed some day (although in this, I was often proven wrong) it was just that I loved the feeling of knowing. The thought that I held knowledge and could rattle it off at any given moment! That gave me the feeling of accomplishment, of power.

This, of course, made me naturally curious. Most people would expect me not to be, considering my nose was forever stuck in a book, but I was very well aware of the fact that there were many things to be learned just by noting your surroundings.

For instance, I learned many things about Quidditch not only because I had read eighty-seven books on it (eighty-eight if you counted that magazine) but because I had gone to so many matches, and had to listen to so many debates on it from Harry and the Weasleys. I learned about Muggle dentistry not simply because I had finished the local libraries entire collection on the topic by the time I was nine, but because I had spent so much time in my parent's office, watching them.

I even enjoyed learning about the Dark Arts, and knew a lot about them, thanks to the countless hours Ron and I had researched it in order to help Harry. "Know thine enemy" and all that. Arming ourselves with knowledge had been our – alright, _my_ – tactic since the very beginning. And I didn't hear many complaints, especially when I was able to get my friends out of particularly tight spots (Devil's Snare, figuring out the secret of the basilisk etc.).

If there was one thing I really did not care to expand my knowledge on, it was Malfoy. But slowly and surely, I was beginning to do just that.

**Random Malfoy Fact #32:**

**He cannot draw to save his life.**

"Why does this pile of rocks have clothes on?" I asked incredulously, pointing to the illustration on one of Malfoy's flyers.

I had accidentally suggested at that he hold auditions for new friends (or as he put it 'cronies/companions') a few days ago and somehow he had found it a brilliant idea. Seeing how he still could not walk, I was stuck helping him hang up the dratted audition notices around the school.

"What? Let me see that." Malfoy snatched the flyer out of my hand, giving me a papercut, but he didn't notice. "That's not a pile of rocks, you idiot Mudblood." He spat, "That's a wizard! A strong one, like the kind I want for the job. Don't you see the face?"

I squinted at the drawing. I could sort of make out human like features on the little rock sitting on top of the rest, but not really. When I pointed this out, however, I merely got as sneer and was told to pass the Spellotape.

I sank into a stupor as Malfoy stuck his posters on the wall opposite the Great Hall. We had been at it since classes ended two hours previous, and we weren't even done with the first floor yet. I couldn't imagine how he expected us to finish the entire castle and still get back up to the common room to do our homework on time. Not to mention – the salve. I groaned inwardly upon remembering.

Every twelve hours for the past week, Malfoy and I had had to find empty classrooms close to our dorms so that I could apply the salve to his wound, and (every third day) change the bandages. While this was basically a load of trouble and always ended in shouting, I had no other choice considering Madam Pomfrey had a passionate hatred of him and would refuse to do the task herself. I was beginning to dread the coming of eight o' clock every day.

"Let's go." Malfoy ordered, handing me back the tape and reaching into his pocket for something. Just from the way his hand was rustling around, I could tell what he was looking for.

**Random Malfoy Fact #7:**

**He loved peppermints. When he started eating them you knew that:**

**A) He was nervous/frustrated**

**B) He was hungry**

**C) He was bored and feeling particularly habitual at the time**

At the moment, I was pretty sure it was simply Situation C, but it could've been A as well. I knew I was becoming frustrated with the whole ordeal. I did have translations, computations and essays due Monday after all.

The sharp minty smell I had grown accustomed to since the beginning of the year filled my nostrils as we began our painfully slow ascent to the second floor. "Damn." Malfoy said bitterly, still digging through his pockets, "That was the last one."

Perfect! "How about we go back to the common room then? You can get more peppermints and I can start my homework." I was already pulling him in the direction of our dorms. "We can hang up the rest of the flyers tomorrow."

"That's not possible!" He protested. "We've got to finish today."

"_Why_?"

"Because the auditions are tomorrow night, stupid."

I sighed, growing more agitated. "But…" I searched for some excuse to return to the Head Common Room. I then remembered something that had been on the flyers and brightened. "You only want Slytherin's for the job, right? So we can go down to the dungeons and post them around there."

Malfoy let out a bark of laughter. "You're mad, Granger. Are you seriously suggesting that the two of us go down to the Slytherin dorms with our arms around each other and hang up flyers? Have you forgotten that you're an idiot Mudblood Gryffindor, and that I'm not exactly the most popular guy in my House anymore?"

"Well, I don't see why that should stop us. Besides," I felt a surge of power as drew my wand, waving it dangerously in front of his nose, "Are you seriously suggesting that we can't take care of ourselves? Have you forgotten that I'm the much-feared Head Girl, and you're the equally capable Head Boy?"

There was simply no arguing with that logic, and he knew it. Thus, we hobbled back down the stairs and over to the entrance to the dungeons.

It became increasingly darker as we made our descent to the dungeons. More than once my clumsy feet missed a step, and Malfoy, who was used to the path, had to steady me before I sent the both of us plunging to our doom. Finally though, we made it to the bottom. "Granger," he breathed. Our grip on each other tightened when we saw the unlit corridor ahead. "Did I mention that this is a _really bad idea_?"

"Oh, quiet." I said, much braver than I felt. "Here's the Spellotape. Hang up the posters."

Very unwillingly, Malfoy took the tape from me and started put up the posters along the while. For a while, it seemed like we were utterly alone in the darkness, but soon I heard voices coming from around the corner. "The common room is down there." He explained. "But as if I'm going to go over there and be seen with _you_."

"You don't have to, Draco," said a male voice from behind him. "We'll just come over _here_ and see you."

We whirled. Blaise Zabini stood at the end of the hall, hand in hand with a simpering Daphne Greengrass. The both of them seemed very amused to see us in this strange state.

"So what are you and the Mudblood up to now?" Zabini continued smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. This caused Daphne to be jerked around rather violently, but she didn't seem to mind. "Thought you'd sneak her down here for a snog?"

My jaw dropped. Malfoy stepped forward. "Listen, Zabini, it's one thing to be an asshole, but it's something else entirely to be an asshole to the Head Boy and Girl."

Daphne burst out laughing. "What are you going to do? Put him in detention?"

I stepped forward as well. "Who said anything about detention?"

Now the two Slytherins looked frightened. "Fine," Zabini said quickly, turning away, "But I'll be sure to tell the entire House about this, if you don't mind - "

"STOP."

Blaise froze in mid-step. Something glittered from the side of his ankle. "What?" he threw back at us.

Malfoy began struggling against me, but I held him back. "You -" he spluttered, "I can't believe…you slimy little – ZABINI!" Malfoy gave me a hard shove that slammed me into the wall, and went tearing towards his Housemate. Zabini started to run, but Malfoy tackled his legs, knocking them both to the floor. Fists were flying within seconds, along with the shouts of the two boys.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" shrieked Daphne, trying to pull Malfoy off Zabini. He swatted at her and she recoiled, running around the corner screaming for people to come and stop the fight. I hurried over to Malfoy and Zabini, arriving at the scene at the same time as all the Slytherins. We were all just in time to see Malfoy knock Zabini onto his stomach, and then sit on the boy's back. With a look of triumph, he yanked up Zabini's foot.

"LOOK!" Malfoy bellowed to the other boy. He pulled at Zabini's sock and again I saw something glitter on the side. Close up, I could see it was golden stitching. "You see that! Right there you little bastard! DM. _Draco Malfoy._ You have the nerve to come over and insult me while wearing MY SOCKS!"

_Socks_? Was _that_ what this was about?

**Random Malfoy Fact #49**

**He was very protective over his personal possessions, almost to the point of being obsessive.**

Still. This was a bit ridiculous.

"Malfoy," I murmured, pulling him up off of Blaise. "We should get out of here fast…"

"Where do you think you're going Mudblood?" Pansy Parkinson said sharply while Daphne helped Zabini up from the ground. "Do you really think we'll let the two of you go quietly after what you just did?"

Calls of support came from the crowd, which was slowly beginning to close in on Malfoy and me. I shifted so that the two of us were back-to-back.

"Plan, Granger?" he said out of the side of his mouth. He drew his wand.

"Not really," I answered, "You?"

"Nothing. Unless…" He grabbed my free wrist, and lowered his voice. "Okay, follow my lead. I can't get back upstairs without you, so stay close." Then, before I even knew what was happening, he yelled. "_LUMOS SOLEM_!"

An amazingly white light filled the corridor, blinding us all. The Slytherin's staggered away from us, attempting to shield their eyes. I felt Malfoy tugging at my wrist, and although he probably couldn't see very well himself, I followed. We ran wildly around the corner, bumping repeatedly into the walls as we went, taking every twist and turn we could find.

"They're getting away!" I heard the shout of Daphne Greengrass from far behind. "After them!"

Malfoy must've heard this as well, for he threw himself onto me, and we tumbled into an empty classroom. We both lay on the floor for a moment, trying to catch our breath, but we knew it would only be a matter of seconds before we would have to start running again.

"I know you're not the favorite of your House anymore," I choked, using a desk to hoist myself up. "But you didn't tell me that they all _hated_ you."

Malfoy got up as well, wincing while he clutched his wound. "No, just the ones in our year, the younger students don't care. And Crabbe and Goyle like me. The only reason my fellow seventh years have never tried this before is because those two are always around. Well that, and because my beating up Zabini is a good excuse."

"Right, what was - "

The doorframe filled with the mob, led by Daphne and Pansy. "There they are!" Pansy screeched, pointing an accusing finger at the two of us.

"Malfoy, get behind me!" I cried, taking his wand and pointing it at the row of desks. "_Oppugno_!" A desk flew through the air, crashing in front of Theodore Nott. "_Oppugno_! _Oppugno_! _Oppugno Maximus_! Malfoy, go!" We ducked out of the room all the desks in the room were hurled toward group of Slytherins, and continued sprinting down the halls.

"What do we do?" I said, slightly hysterical, "We can't run from them forever!"

"I don't know! You're the Mudblood, you do the thinking!"

"Malfoy, don't start - !"

Footsteps echoed loudly behind us, coming closer and closer.

Malfoy gripped my wrist tighter. "I got it! If we're not in their territory, I'm safe! So all we have to do it get back upstairs!"

"Wait, _you'll_ be safe? What about me!"

"Whatever, you too, let's just go! Quick, in here." Again Malfoy threw himself on me, but this time we ended up cramped in a broom closet. "Give me some room." He whined, and I was pressed into a corner while he made himself comfortable. Oh, I was _so _going to get him for this later.

"What's your plan?" I asked, trying not to sneeze from all the dust.

"It's – oh God, no."

"Malfoy, what _now_?"

"I'm bleeding."

"Don't be dramatic."

"No, really." He turned towards me, and in the darkness I could vaguely make out his worried expression. "Look." He moved his hands from his midriff and now I saw that the front of his shirt was almost completely soaked through with blood. I gasped, horrified. "It's the all the running." Malfoy told me, his voice hoarse. "The wound reopened."

**Random Malfoy Fact #11**

**When his voice went hoarse, it meant he was doing everything he could to not show how much pain he was in. It was a macho thing.**

I remembered this immediately, and thus knew that we had to get upstairs fast so that we could stop the bleeding. I was not particularly fond (read: not at all fond) of Malfoy but I knew what happened when a person looses too much blood, and I did not want his death on my hands.

I poked my head out of the closet. Although I could still hear the Slytherins, their voices sounded much farther off. We seemed to be safe for the moment.

"What's the fastest way upstairs?"

"Flying."

"The fastest way upstairs_ that we can use_!" I said through gritted teeth.

"Oh. Actually, it's back the way we came."

My head was beginning to throb from the complexity of the situation. "What? But there's an angry mob charging toward us from that direction! How are we supposed to get back if - " I stopped in mid-sentence, and idea forming in my mind. "Malfoy, come back into the hallway, I've got an idea."

Once out into the hallway, I started running in place. "What are you doing?" Malfoy hissed. "They'll find us!"

"Exactly." I huffed back, before launching into the second part of my plan. Loudly, but not enough to give myself away I said, "This way! No, not in the broom closet…Malfoy!" I threw myself back against the door, slamming it shut, and then listened intently.

"Did you hear that?" Daphne's shrieking voice rang out through the halls. "Look in all the broom closets!"

I grinned. Now for part three. Grabbing Malfoy by the wrist, I pulled the two of us into the classroom down the hall in near silence. When they all run past the room to the broom closet," I whispered, crouching next to the door, "We go out as quickly and quietly as we can and run to our dorm."

"And if they realize they've been tricked and catch us anyway?"

I sighed, not wanting to consider that possibility. "Then we fight."

The sound of pounding feet was swelling, drawing closer….and then it died away, rushing at the broom closet. We heard the door bang open and then Pansy say, "They've already gone, we have to catch them!" and I knew we were safe. I opened the door stealthily and Malfoy and I rushed back to the staircase, trying to avoid making any sort of sound, but we had lost the Slytherins for good (or at least for now).

When we emerged from the dungeons, Malfoy slumped against the wall. "You know what? I'm switching to Hufflepuff."

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"OW! You did it again!"

"Well, stop moving."

"It's not my fault. That bloody stuff stings!"

"Would you rather I take you to Madam Pomfrey?"

Malfoy quieted at once.

I continued to dab the healing paste onto the long cuts that had been causing all the bleeding before. It had taken forever to convince Malfoy to let me clean them ("I don't need some stupid Lump to bathe me") and to allow me to put the paste on them. Along with the salve, the cuts themselves would probably be gone by tomorrow, although now I suspected the wound would take even longer to heal, which meant I would have to go on with this twice-a-day ritual for a while.

'_Oh, the joy.'_

"Alright, sit up," I directed, smearing the last bit of the paste onto his middle. "And don't you dare make me rewrap the bandages after this."

"Hmph." Malfoy grumbled, straightening up so I could apply the clean new bandage. "You know, this whole thing is your fault."

"Really? Let's see: You starting a ridiculous fight with Blaise Zabini over _socks_ - "

"He's been stealing them from me since first year! That boy is not normal!" He argued, but I ignored him.

" – which caused us to get chased by crazed Housemates of yours, who wanted to do God knows what to us, and running from them made _your_ wound bleed." I tapped my chin in mock confusion. "Oh, wait, the fact that you _have_ that wound is apparently my fault too, because, of course, _I_ was the one that made you Apparate, even though in truth I was the only person sensible enough to try and stop you! I suppose world hunger's my doing as well, isn't it! WHY IS EVERYTHING ALWAYS HERMIONE'S FAULT?"

"Granger!" Malfoy yelped.

"_What!_"

"The bandages!" he squeaked.

I looked and saw that, in my rage, I had wrapped the bandages so tightly around Malfoy that he was unable to breathe.

Okay. Maybe some things were my fault.

**A/N:** Review and chapters will come. Well, they will even if you don't review. But review anyway.


	11. The Failed Plots

**A/N:** HI! (silence) ...well, this is awkward. Don't ask me where I've been or what I've been doing this past few months. I'm not sure myself. And although I'm sure many are currently dissappointed because of no new chapter of "Be a Doll", I assure you it will be coming soon. I have school for another two weeks and then...well, I promise there will be new chapters galore, for both stories. There's also a one-shot I've been hoping to post - but I suppose you'll see about that. For now, I present to you:

**The Art of Being Insane**

**Chapter 11: The Failed Plots (and How to Scare a Mudblood)**

My parents obviously weren't thinking about me when they got married. I realize this sounds like a lot to ask, considering I wasn't born yet, but I don't think it would've been too much work to think about the consequences should they decide to reproduce. The consequences for their child, I mean.

My mother was what people called a "striking beauty" (although she did sometimes get this look on her face that was striking in a completely different manner) and I suppose my father was a pretty good-looking bloke as well. If nothing else, he was very aristocratic, even with his ridiculously long hair. So my features weren't the problem. In fact, I was rather handsome if I did say so myself. My issue lay in coloring. Or lack thereof.

I was pale. I was like an uncolored picture. My skin was sheet white, my hair such a sheer blonde it was silver, my eyes gray. I'd like to say this made me all the more dashing and unique, but really, it made me look weird. It had happened more than once that I was stopped in the middle of the street by people who were convinced I need to be taken to the hospital immediately. Whispers of 'ghost' and 'albino' followed me wherever I went. If hurt myself the tiniest bit, I'd have the mark for days. The sun was my mortal enemy. And all of this because of my parents, who were too selfish to realize that their one and only son would forever be plagued by their own pale-ness.

The fact that I was so damn white killed my beauty. Never did I hear the comment, "Oh, Narcissa, you have such a darling boy" or "What a handsome young lad". It was always "Are you sure he's getting enough sun?" and "He looks a bit sickly. I'll go get some tonic…". People didn't like to look at me for fear that I'd blind them.

That part I actually found a bit amusing, and I tended to do strange things when amused (which explained my behavior towards Granger's anger). Not to mention that I had always had a knack for transfiguration. This led to some…well, 'interesting' experiments.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm not looking at you." I told Granger, telling her a rare truth.

Granger backed away from me, abandoning her work on my wound. "Malfoy, stop it. That's creepy."

"What are you talking about?" I pressed.

"You're doing it right now!"

I squirmed upright, and stared directly at her. This time she shrieked and scrambled over to the door. "I'm serious Malfoy, cut it out! It's not funny!"

It was actually _very_ funny, but she wasn't able to tell that I thought so from my expression. Merlin, I was a good actor.

"Granger, you're being paranoid." I huffed, "Now will you get back over here and finish putting on this salve? I have things to do."

She was beginning to look nauseous. Drawing her wand, Granger pointed at me with a shaking hand. "I-I'm not doing anything until you stop looking at me like that."

"How am I looking at you?" I asked her, smirking.

"Malfoy, I'm telling you -"

"How am I looking at you?" I asked again, sliding off the desktop.

"What are you doing?!"

I began to slink towards her. "How am I looking at you?"

Her back was to the wall. "Don't come any closer, I'll - !"

"_How am I looking at you_?"

Granger's scream died on her lips, and she slid down the wall, trembling like a leaf. I laughed manically and leapt forward -

"Oh. It's just your eyebrows." She said quietly.

I stopped in mid-lunge. "What did you say?"

"It's your eyebrows." Granger repeated, sounding very composed. "You made them invisible, didn't you? That's why you looked so creepy. I knew it must've been something like that." She stood up and primly adjusted her robes. "Well, come on. I've got to finish putting on your salve before I leave for Apparition Ed. I know you're not going this week, but we still have to hurry up."

I was frozen in my shock, but that didn't stop me from seeing the devilish smile flicker onto her mouth. All at once it became clear: she had been faking. She'd known it was just my eyebrows the entire time. I thought I had been the skilled actor, but in reality it was her. I'd been duped, duped at my own game. Again.

I stuck a peppermint in my mouth and stomped back over to the table. _'We'll see about this, Granger.'_

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"Draco," Helga Hufflepuff cooed, peering out at me from the picture frame, "Don't you think you're getting just a _little bit obsessive_…"

"Not at all." I flipped through my copy of _Transfiguration for the Bored and Sadistic_, and pointed to a spell, "Okay, how's this one? It'll make my teeth all long and sharp like a vampire. Maybe I could attack her neck or something."

Slytherin shook his head. "That won't do, not in this room anyway. It'll seem like you're trying to put moves on her, and thanks to Helga and Godric over there," he gave the two a shrewd look, "You're mouth will probably sew itself up."

"Really, Salazar," Gryffindor stopped polishing his shield to speak, "How do you expect to have two seventeen-year-olds of opposite sexes share a dorm without protection spells?"

"I can't see why not." Ravenclaw sniffed. "It would be the Head Boy and Girl after all. We should trust them."

Helga leaned forward and whispered to me, "Rowena always was a bit ridiculous about the protection spells. I can't tell you how many times we found her and Salazar down in the dungeons -"

"Exchanging intellectual discoveries!" Ravenclaw finished indignantly.

"They were exchanging a lot more than that if you ask me." Gryffindor muttered.

"Why exactly are you trying to scare this girl anyway?" Slytherin asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from his love life.

I grumbled, "Because. She's a stupid-Mud-stupid-blood-stupid-Gryffin-stupid-dor-stupid-Lump.Who is stupid."

"It'd be awful if she were stupid too," Ravenclaw said dryly.

Gryffindor frowned. "What's wrong with Gryffindors?"

"You know, if it's a mudblood you're dealing with," Slytherin said smoothly, examining his nails, "You could've just asked me for my guide."

The other Founders gasped. "Serpent Tongue, I thought you swore you'd get rid of it!" cried Gryffindor.

"Oh, I did. You forget about my impeccable memory, however." His three fellows were scandalized. "Boy, write this down." Slytherin ordered, but I already had a quill out, poised over a fresh sheet of parchment. As if I _wouldn't_ cherish something that would help me torture Granger.

"'_How to Scare a Mudblood: A Guide by Salazar Svordoff Slytherin_.'"

Ravenclaw snorted. "Svordoff…"

He rolled his eyes, and looked back at me, "You've got that down? Right then. '_Number One – Find out what the Mudblood is afraid of. If you don't know, make it up. Use something universally frightening as your tool._' Do you know what she's scared of?"

"I might have something." I answered, recalling a story that had been all over school back in third year. During the Defense Against the Dark Arts final, Granger had apparently lost it when her boggart changed into McGonagal and informed her that she had failed everything. Possibly, I could recreate a similar situation. "Keep going."

Slytherin continued to dictate his guide to me. Gryffindor got fed up halfway through and disappeared into the castle in the background. Hufflepuff took out some knitting but was sure to make disapproving clucks every few minutes, while Ravenclaw merely looked on, not saying a word.

Finally, after nearly an hour, we were down to the last step. I had already used up two feet of parchment and sat in eager anticipation as I waited Slytherin to reveal his final bit of Mudblood-torturing-related knowledge to me.

The serpent was grinning widely while he said, "Now listen carefully for this last one, Draco. It's very important, and it really brings it all together. Ready?" I nodded. "'_Number 174' _-" he announced grandly, "'_Kill it.'_"

I froze. "What?"

"You heard me. _'Kill it.'_"

"It. Kill it." I repeated, flustered. He couldn't mean what I thought he meant. "By _'it'_ – you do mean the crocodile from Number 106?" I skimmed the rest of the guide hurriedly. "Or the bowtruckles from Number 22?"

"No." He stared. "I mean, well, 'it'. _The Mudblood_." Slytherin clapped his hands. "Isn't it great?"

I was saved from having to answer, for at the moment Ravenclaw burst into ironic laughter. "Obviously he doesn't think so, Salazar. You should've seen the look on his face when you said that." She pointed at me. "I knew you wouldn't like it. I sensed some moral fiber in you from the very beginning."

"Lionheart!" Hufflepuff called towards the castle. She had abandoned her knitting, wandered over to where Slytherin and Ravenclaw were standing. "Lionheart, you can come out now! He's done, Draco already rejected it."

Slytherin glared at her, then turned back to me. He almost seemed hurt. "You really don't like it?"

"No, I do!" I protested, but in truth, I was appalled. I mean, sure, it may be all fine and dandy for Salazar Slytherin to go around killing Mudbloods, but_ I_ couldn't do that. It wasn't that I was afraid of being sent to Azkaban (although I was) or because I was too lazy (also true). It was the simple fact that I would never kill anybody, no matter how annoying they were. Not even Granger.

"Look, maybe I could alter the guide a bit." I suggested, "There's some great stuff in here. Actually, if I just cut out the last step, it's perfect."

"It's not the same if you don't do that one!" Slytherin whined, "Really, it isn't! It seems a little harsh, yes, but it does wrap it up quite nicely. Try it."

"Um, no, I don't think I will…"

"_Please_?"

Oh Merlin, was be begging? I was growing steadily more uncomfortable as this went on. It didn't help when Gryffindor came out of the castle dancing a jig while singing, "Hahahahaha-HA, Sally got rejected…"

"I did not!" argued the other man.

"Did so-ooo!" giggled Gryffindor.

"DID NOT! Rowena, help me here!"

"I'm not doing anything. You told us you got rid of the list, so if Godric wants to sing, I'll let him."

"Technically, I did get rid of it."

"Not telling the whole truth is just as bad as a lie, Salazar!"

"Now, Badger Paw…"

"Don't try and sweet talk me, I'm not your darling_ Rowena_."

"And what are you suggesting by that, Helga?"

"SALLY'S GETTING SORE, HELGA'S GETTING NASTY, ROWENA'S IN DENIAL…"

"Godric, shut up!" the other Founders shouted, before dissolving back into their argument. Not wanting to feel left out, Gryffindor went up to the group and began yelling as well.

Suddenly it made complete sense to me why Slytherin had finally ditched the other Founders and left Hogwarts. They fought over everything – wizarding lineage, school rules, who got to speak first, the shade of Hufflepuff's hair (in their last dispute, they had settled for "blonde, but on the reddish-auburn side"). I may not have had the best social skills, but even I knew that was no way to carry on with your friends.

I pointed. "I'll be over there making myself look good and frightening for the Mudblood. Just as a side note, though, I won't be killing her. You know, in case anybody cares."

Rowena Ravenclaw cheered as Slytherin chased Gryffindor and Hufflepuff around the painted castle in efforts to get his hair ribbon back. Sometimes they made it hard for me to remember that they were geniuses.

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From my perch on Ice Cream Cone Mountain, I watched a furry brown squirrel come into view. It was speaking to a bespectacled cat, who appeared to be very worried about it.

"Meow." The cat said, which roughly translated into "Oh, are you sure it's alright? You seem to have hurt yourself quite badly. Perhaps you should go and rest".

"Squeak." The squirrel answered, holding back a grimace. "I'm fine, really. I might even be able to run again by Monday."

"Mew-meow." The cat's tail twitched disapprovingly. "Well, I don't suggest trying that sort of thing, but if you say you're okay. I'll come to check on you later."

"Squeaky!" the squirrel called cheerfully, waving while the cat retreated. The moment the cat was out of sight, the squirrel let out a pitiful cry and grumbled a series of very bad words as it limped over to the my mountain.

I realized what the squirrel intended to do a second before it happened, but that was not enough time to escape the bushy creature as it threw itself backwards onto me. I struggled for air as I sank deeper into the ice cream, waving my arms wildly against the surprisingly heavy squirrel. Then, it let out a shriek that sounded an awful lot like…oh God. It was _Granger_.

My dream world faded from around me, and I got a mouthful of the Mudblood's robes in a futile attempt to cry out. That got her attention.

She rocketed off the couch with such force she stumbled and fell to the floor. "Malfoy!" she yelped, "What are you doing? You scared me half to death!"

"What am _I _doing?" I sat up, still gasping for air, "You're the one that thinks you can throw yourself down wherever the hell you want – wait, did you say I scared you?" I added excitedly.

Granger glared. "I would think so, you practically just bit me in the arse!"

If I were capable of pigment, I would have turned green at that point. I settled for falling onto the floor in shock, and she shrieked again as I almost rolled over her. "What?! I did no such thing!"

"You did so! I'm surprised the Founder spells didn't plain rip your mouth off…"

From the portrait, Ravenclaw snickered, "Now that's a protection spell I would've gone for."

"Shut up!" I looked at Granger. "And I didn't bite your Mudblood arse! Why the hell would I do that?"

"How am I supposed to know? You said you wanted to scare me, I bet that's your twisted way of doing it." she said, "You're just mad about that pathetic eyebrow thing from this morning!"

I tossed my hands up into the air. "Of course I'm mad about that! That's why I did all _this_." I gestured to my face and neck, which I completely made over with the help of my transfiguration book. I had given myself a hag's nose, vampire's teeth (I couldn't resist), bloodshot cat eyes, and the werewolf hair. My plan at been to 'attack' her when she came into the room, informing her that she failed – at life. In my opinion, the whole thing would've been terrifying. The Mudblood thought otherwise.

"Is that why you look like a Halloween costume gone wrong?" she said blankly, "I thought you were just practicing Transfiguration."

"ARGH!" I flipped over onto my stomach, burying my face into the dirty carpet. Would I _ever _win? "You know what, Granger? Kill me now. Please."

"As much as I'd love to take up that offer, it's already eight o'clock and I haven't done any of my homework, so if you'd excuse me - "

"Eight o'clock? What are you on about, it's only noon."

Granger sighed. "You must've fallen asleep or something, Malfoy. It's eight."

"What?!" The auditions! I scrambled to my feet, then doubled over in pain. My wound was causing no less trouble than that morning. "C'mon, you useless Lump, we've got to get down to the Quidditch Pitch."

She blanched. "The Quidditch Pitch?"

"For the auditions to replace Crabbe and Goyle!" I said, trying to pull her up from the floor. She wouldn't budge. "Get up, would you? I'm already a half an hour late."

"W-w-w-we can't!" she protested, latching onto the carpet when I began to pull harder. "It's…morally wrong!"

I scoffed. "You didn't care when we were putting up the posters yesterday." She shot out her leg to kick me, but I caught her ankle in my hand. "Gotcha – " Granger froze. I looked back and forth from her ankle to her face, back and forth.

A cloth bandage, not entirely unlike the one around my waist, was wrapped about her ankle.

"You – were - splinched?!" I said breathlessly.

Her reddening cheeks were my answer. At once, I dropped her ankle, and her pained scream covered the sound of it clunking to the floor. Of course, my celebratory hoot might have also had something to do with muffling the sound, but that remains to be seen.

"YOU! WERE! SPA-LI-I-I-IN-CHED!!" I bellowed, collapsing backwards onto the sofa. "Good God, Granger, why didn't you tell me? I would've baked a cake! I would've thrown a party! Why, this is the best thing that's happened to me since getting Head Boy."

"Best thing that's happened to you?" Granger spat, still on the floor nursing her injured ankle, "You idiot ferret. You realize that now we'll hardly be able to move at all? I can hardly walk!"

Actually, it hadn't occurred to me. Hmm. This might be a problem. "But it can't be so bad. I mean, it's only an ankle."

"Yes, Malfoy. Only an ankle. Only the thing I put my weight on in order to perform daily actions, such as standing, walking, fleeing from evil…Merlin, showering is going to be hell." she added in an undertone.

Ew.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to help you with that." I said briskly, "But, that aside, I do believe it's time to head down to the Quidditch Pitch…"

"You really don't understand this, do you? _I_ CANNOT WALK WITHOUT _YOUR _HELP. _YOU_ CANNOT WALK WITHOUT _MY_ HELP. _WE _CANNOT WALK." Granger shouted, pulling herself up into an armchair. "So how in the world do you propose we get down to the Quidditch Pitch?!"

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For the record, I did regret having to sacrifice the last few bits of my dignity. I regretted it, but that didn't stop me from doing it anyway (although later I would find out that my efforts would once again be wasted, but that tale is soon to reveal itself).

Besides, it wasn't like I gave it up without a fight. In fact, the two of us fought quite a bit. I attempted to call my eagle owl so that he could deliver a message, but then remembered that I had never taught him to come when he's called. Granger tied a note to her cat, (Crooky-something, I believe his name was), and ordered him to go find Harry and Ron, twittering the whole while that he was the smartest cat in the world. Crook-whatever then proceeded to throw up on her robes and scurried into my room to sleep. We even tried to get there ourselves, deciding that maybe it would be easy just to run for it. We nearly made it to the door before Granger collapsed, squealing with pain, and I came down with her. By this time we were too tired to even drag ourselves back to the couches, so I simply rolled away from her and took to staring at the ceiling. I had the odd desire to begin hexing it again.

"Well…we could try riding a broom. I have my Nimbus, we could always take that."

"No!" Granger said, "The last thing I even want to do is get on a broom with the likes of you! I don't care if we never get down to the Quidditch Pitch - " she stopped abruptly and sat up. "Wait. I don't care if we never get down to the Quidditch Pitch. Then what the hell have I been trying to help you for the past half hour?"

I made a face. "You should be honored that I'm allowingyou help me. I hardly give people the opportunity. Actually," I smirked a bit at the next thought, "Why am I bothering with these auditions? If I weren't filled with the feeling of complete and total hatred every time I thought about you, you'd be the perfect cronie/companion."

I was not surprised when she kicked me, even though I thought delivering another blow to my head was a little much. But it must have done some good, for that was when the idea struck me. _Granger._ Of course!

I turned my gaze towards the Founder's portrait to see what they thought. Hufflepuff wagged a finger at me. "Oh, I know exactly what you're thinking, Draco Malfoy. Don't do it." I glanced at the others. Gryffindor sniffed disapprovingly, Ravenclaw shrugged and Slytherin pouted, obviously still disappointed that I had no intention of killing the Mudblood. I weighed their reactions and I decided that majority ruled. After all, Gryffindor and Slytherin's votes were didn't count because of their childish behavior, and Ravenclaw's beauty made her vote count twice - so I would do it.

I silently slid closer to Granger. Her arm was a few inches away from my face. I gathered all the courage I could muster, knowing that I receive much more than a few blows for this, and that if worse came to worse, I would be a dead man…and I kissed her elbow.

She jumped. "What was that?"

I sat up, pretending to examine my shoes for scuffs. "What was what?" I asked, nonchalant as you please. On the inside, however, I was confused. Why hadn't it worked? Surely the Founder's protection spell would've picked up my come-on! From the portrait, I heard all four of the Founders laughing, but was too frustrated to wonder about that at the moment.

"Nothing, I suppose," The Lump said, rubbing her arm. "I just thought I felt something wet. It's probably because of the rain, since this room is directly connected to outside."

"The rain?" Suddenly, I felt my world tilt. Rain No. She did not say rain. She could not have said rain. Right?

I felt blood rush to my head, turning my face unnaturally pink. Granger was not looking at me – she, like most, avoided it when she could - or she certainly would've realized that my displaying pigment meant something was horribly wrong.

"Yes, of course, you inattentive prat, it's been raining all afternoon. What, you didn't notice?"

And, as I realized that I had failed at a plot for the third time that day, it no longer brings me shame to admit it; I passed out.

**A/N:** Yeah, I know, strange chapter. But it's something, no? Read and review. Review and be loved.


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